


Square Peg Round Hole

by almaasi



Series: Pegging and Parole [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bisexual Julian Bashir, Bottom Julian Bashir, Canon Divergence, Communication, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Illustrated, Imaginary Elim Garak, Love Letters, M/M, Masturbation, Pegging, Pining, Polyamorous Julian Bashir, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Supportive Leeta, set just before season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Fellas, is it gay if you accidentally moan the name of your Cardassian lunch companion who’s in prison while you and your Bajoran girlfriend try pegging for the first time? Is it gay if you then try to convince her that the name you moaned is actually a casual slang expression? And then desperately try and get your friends to use it? Is it gay if you keep his letters under your pillow and all you want to do when you get home from work is fall on a phallic sex toy and think about him? Fellas??☆This is a prequel to the Garashir fic “Parole” (wherein Julian collects Garak from prison and they share a bunk on the way home). The stories are separated out because this one’s smutty and the other one is sweet. You can read one without the other!
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Leeta
Series: Pegging and Parole [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958500
Comments: 50
Kudos: 102





	1. Pegged

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by [lighthouse](https://fineillgettheapp.tumblr.com/), [ConceptaDecency](https://conceptadecency.tumblr.com/), and [Arinaca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arinaca).
> 
>  **Warnings/clarification (spoilers!):** Julian is dating Leeta while Garak is in prison, and while exploring anal penetration with top!Leeta, he repeatedly fantasises about Garak. He later masturbates alone, also fantasising (ft. conversations with imaginary!Garak). Julian tells Leeta what’s going on about halfway through the fic, and they attempt an open relationship so they can sleep with other people, except Julian can’t go through with it with anyone else, because he only wants Garak and Garak’s not there. Much pining. Much emotionally-complex smut.
> 
> ☆ [Art reblog!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/631188059541716992/leeta-julian-imaginarygarak-square-peg-round)
> 
> Sorry about the title. And the summary. And this whole thing.
> 
> Actually... You know what, I’m not that sorry. Enjoy! ♥

“Are you ready, Julian?”

Leeta’s lashes dipped low, then flashed back up to touch under her brows, dark eyes set on Julian below her. Julian held her gaze and nodded, releasing a careful breath between his plumped lips.

Leeta paused, keeping her fingers tucked into Julian’s heat, waiting instead of pulling out. Julian trembled around her, fingers scrunching into the sheets.

Leeta cocked her head gently. “Is everything okay?”

Julian nodded.

Leeta smiled, a smirk that became a grin. “ _I_ think you’re gonna love this... given how much you like the stretching.”

Julian let go of a wanton little moan as his girlfriend finally slid her fingers out of his anus, which was far more relaxed than it had been ten minutes ago.

He propped his torso up on his elbows, watching Leeta clean her hand on a wet towel, then reach for the lubricant.

For a moment Leeta studied Julian, who lay with his legs open around her. Julian prickled hot under her attention, taking the same moment to admire the softness in the slope of her naked shoulders; softness in her eyes.

“Do you want more?” Leeta asked.

Julian let his eyes wander the room, lips parted as he mulled it over. Yes, he could think of a dozen reasons not to go any further than this, but his insides fluttered with excitement anyway. His erection hadn’t flagged one iota, and now, as he imagined what it might be like to have something thick and ridge-textured pushing inside him, it twitched twice in anticipation.

Brimming with too much curiosity to back out now, he made up his mind and looked back to Leeta. He nodded quickly, holding her gaze. “I’m ready. I’m— Please?”

They shared a smile, then a tender kiss.

Leeta hummed into the kiss and leaned over Julian, pushing him flat to the bed. Julian heard the snap of the lubricant bottle-cap and his skin burned with static, fizzing down his spine. “ _Uahh_...”

“Told you,” Leeta murmured onto his lips, grinning as she slicked him up. “I don’t think you _enjoying_ this would be a problem.”

Julian lay with his eyes closed, trembling a little, so thrilled by the idea of what was to come.

He took a peek as Leeta arranged herself over him – and he flamed with a thrill and dread at once. Leeta fastened the dildo into place, straps around her upper thighs and waist, with the textured base of the purple toy pushed into the most sensitive of places. The length of the phallus was striped with ridges much like a Bajoran nose, but each ridge was a centimetre apart at the base, getting closer and closer together nearer the head.

A shuddered breath escaped Julian, a smile dancing on his lips. He hummed and sucked his lower lip, then squirmed and rolled himself over onto his front.

“Oh,” Leeta said. “You... want to face away from me?”

Julian shivered and got comfortable on his elbows and knees, torso lowered down to the bed, presenting his bottom to his lover. Once ready, he nodded, blushing face hidden against a forearm.

His cock started to drip. He’d have to change the sheets after this, anyway; it hardly mattered if the blanket got wet.

“Comfortable?”

He nodded.

“Ready?”

He buried his face against the backs of his hands, taking measured breaths, feeling the heat of his lungs burn against his cheeks and forehead. He swallowed, then nodded one more time. “Okay.”

Leeta took hold of his hips, and put a kiss on his neck. Julian stayed tense, but as Leeta stroked his spine up and down a few times, he let himself unwind, and he hummed a purring note, appreciating a good massage.

“Here we go...” Leeta whispered. “Relax.”

Julian’s temperature rose; his lips parted; he opened his legs a little more.

Slowly – very slowly – Leeta pushed in, and filled him in one easy, smooth _slip_.

“Ah—?” Julian’s eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned long and low and deep, pleasure and satisfaction and relief now glowing in his belly and lower back, spreading up through his chest. “Ouhhhhh...” His palms and soles tingled as Leeta started to rock.

“Good?” Leeta asked.

Julian just squirmed and positioned himself for deeper penetration, breath going ragged, fingers clawing the sheets. “Auh... Oh, _God_...”

Leeta laughed quietly. “Oh, you do like it.”

“Ohhhhh, yeeehhhssss.” Julian began to tilt his hips in time with Leeta’s tentative thrusts, letting her control his movement. “Hmmnnn.” He bit his lip, head turning, hand moving to grip his own hair. “Feels amazing...”

“Bit strange for me,” Leeta admitted, kissing Julian’s right ear. “Hmmm. Good though. _Powerful_.” She sucked on his earlobe, then nuzzled his neck. “You’re so beautiful with that blush. Your ears are burning _hot_.”

Julian flashed a grin, then cried out, sinking down flat onto the bed and starting to pant. “Push! Fuck me. Fuck me.” The toy grazed his prostate and the ridges sent sparks through every nerve in his body. “Oh-God-yes. _Right_ there.”

Leeta kept doing what she was doing, keeping up a steady but not especially fast rhythm. She kept her weight mostly on the bed, resting on her forearms and knees.

Julian whispered, “Please... please...”

The word escaped him a few more times before Leeta asked, “What do you want me to do, Julian?”

“Put—” Julian shivered. “Put all your weight on me. S-Squash me flat.”

Leeta laughed, but then realised Julian wasn’t kidding. She gradually made the change, figuring out how to balance her body over Julian, hands on his biceps, hips to his buttocks, thighs on his thighs and feet curled over his skinny calves, toes tickling his leg hair as she stroked him.

Julian moaned in bliss, unable to do much but pump his hips into the bed. His keening was muffled by the tangled blanket, but due to sheer volume and passion, his own noises still throbbed in his ears.

“Slower,” Julian whispered. “Slow.”

Leeta reduced her thrusts to a deep, gradual puuuuuuush in, then she’d angle her hips and puuuuuull out, letting Julian squirm and gasp and grip the sheets in the meantime.

Leeta gave a tiny giggle when Julian tilted his head, providing her the opportunity to put kisses on his ear. Clearly full of glee, she began smooching and sucking the cartilage. Fingertips followed, and she even snuck a tongue around the rim of his ear, making Julian sniff in surprise.

“Ohhh, you have such gorgeous eeeeaaars,” Leeta uttered, her voice a white-laced ocean wave lapping at his senses. “I adore how they stick out. You like when I kiss them, don’t you...”

Julian didn’t really care either way – he just liked being full up with something so phallic and textured and _big_. He whimpered and nodded. “Leeta. O-hh— Press into me. Be heavier.”

Leeta tutted, grinning against his ear. “I’m as heavy as I can be, sweetie. Do you really like that? You like being held down?”

“H-Heavy.” Julian was shivering, gushing hot and cold with a pleasured fever. “Ohh... Just... Shhh, don’t talk. Don’t talk. Just fuck me.”

“Okay.” Leeta kissed his neck, then focused on her thrusts. Her lips and fingers kept straying to his ears. She plucked at his lobes and sucked and nibbled until Julian’s ears were blazing – but by now he hardly noticed, too enthralled in the feelings lower down.

He spread his legs wider, letting out desperate huffs of delight when Leeta seemed to weigh more like that.

Slow. Steady.

Kisses on the back of his neck.

It was all so _good_ , but it wasn’t quite perfect. Julian yearned for _more_ – more weight, more pressure, more of a hiss or a growl instead of Leeta’s ever-sweet voice. God, just something _raw_ , damn it, something _brutal_... animalistic. Yet tender in ways that defied explanation. Why couldn’t Leeta be like that?

She was too Bajoran to even consider being anything else.

And Julian wanted something else.

He knew exactly what, but he refused to think about it. Refusing those thoughts took him to war; a new battle began with every breath, every thrust, every tiny cry of rapture that breached his lips.

Julian stayed in stasis for a number of long minutes, kept there by his insistence on maintaining mental control. It was long enough that he began to writhe, searching for more stimulus to lift him out of this torturous plateau. Leeta responded with a groan and a speeding thrust, and Julian cried out in exaltation, skin searing, breath caught in his throat.

“Yes,” he whispered, as Leeta started to get a bit wild. “Yes! Yes! Ohh...”

Julian’s fists paled in the sheets, sweat trickling down his spine. By now his throat was raw and burning from the force of his panting. “Mmmmm. Mm, yes. Hyyes. Uaahhhhhh. _Au_ h...” Thrust; thrust— Pressure twirled and tugged inside him, heartbeat louder and louder in his head. He lifted his rump, asking for more—

But Leeta slowed down again, perhaps sensing Julian was getting closer to climax while she wanted to hold off. She paid so much attention to his other ear now, but Julian realised he didn’t like that; he found it annoying. And he was bored.

“Leeta?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you really just – fuck me? Use me.”

Leeta huffed. “ _Use_ you?”

Julian flashed with heat at the idea. “Hm...! L-Like you’re desperate. Like you haven’t been with me in a while and you love me.”

“All right?” Leeta said with amused bafflement. “I _do_ love you.”

Julian bit his lip and nodded. “Exactly.”

With one push, she sank in, up to the hilt of the toy; Julian _wailed_ – God, being filled up was the _best_ part.

Leeta then began to lick-nibble the crook of his neck as she humped.

“Auh. Aah. Yes. Oh my God.” Julian turned his head to let her get that good spot just where his neck met his shoulder. “Harder.”

Leeta pressed with her hips a bit more, plumping Julian’s buttocks with each push.

“No, hard,” Julian said. “ _Fuck_ me.”

Leeta hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Julian moaned and nodded, stretching the sheets in his hands as he clutched them. “G’auuaaah, just— Just— Mmhh, wreck me. _Please._ Please. Please.”

Leeta shivered over him. She must have considered how desperately Julian begged, and decided to allow it – because the next thing Julian knew, her strap-on and hips _slammed_ into his backside, one, twice, three times, four, again, again, again, again – and he _groaned_ , on fire with ecstacy.

Filled up completely with another man’s cock, held down, _used_ for his pleasure. Kissed on the shoulder; a sensitive place for Cardassians. Oh, Garak was so heavy— And he’d waited so long to have a go— Julian _seared_ at the thought and shot to the electric edge of climax.

“EliiIIIMmm,” Julian moaned, stretching long in the bed, skin prickling and buzzing all over. “Ohhh, _yes_ — Yes! _Yes_ — Ah. Hmmm.” He smiled, eyes shut as he came into the blanket.

It was a gentle orgasm: more of a spill than a burst. But, _oh_ , was it good.

He collapsed immediately after he’d finished, purring in satisfaction.

Leeta’s movements slowed to a gentle hump. “Wait,” she asked, catching her breath, “did you come already?”

Julian nodded sleepily. “Mm-hm.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

Leeta pushed twice more, but then reconsidered when Julian gasped at the sensation, oversensitive now. So Leeta carefully pulled out. Julian shuddered as she did, mouth opening for one more tiny moan.

Now feeling empty and weightless, Julian needed a moment to recalibrate his sense of body and self. He tried to psych himself up to turn over and return the favour, but remained in his blissed-out melted puddle of darkness and half-sleep.

After half a minute, he heard the hiccup and gasp and shudder of Leeta reaching climax, and he wrenched back to look over his shoulder, surprised to see the toy had been removed, and Leeta was half-sitting, half-standing with one knee on the bed and one foot on the floor, having just satisfied herself with a hand.

“Excuse me. That was my job,” Julian complained.

Leeta tipped her head back, eyes shut as she recovered. A smile ticked at the corner of her lips, and she glanced over at him, smokey-eyed but growing cool as each huff of breath cleared the air.

She licked her lips, then crawled onto the bed to join Julian. She gave him a mushy, affectionate kiss, making out with him as he rolled lethargically onto his back.

“Hmm.” Julian smiled, all of him twinkling as he looked up at his girlfriend. “I _definitely_ had a good time.”

“I noticed,” Leeta said. But there was something wary in her expression.

“What?” Julian asked, eyes darting from Leeta’s left eye to her right, then back. “Did I do something wrong? I just needed a moment to rest, that’s all.”

“Oh... no? No. It’s not that.” Leeta glanced away, then eyed Julian again. She took a hesitant breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What does ‘Elim’ mean?”

A frown descended between Julian’s brows as a flutter of fearful recognition stole through his chest. “What?”

“You moaned it. When you came.”

Julian’s heart started to pound. “Did I really? Oh. Y-yeah, that’s, um. Just. Just a-a-a— Well?” In the throes of guilty panic, he said, “Human expression. To express... joy. Like, um... Like ‘oh my goodness’. Or ‘huzzah’.”

Leeta seemed confused. “Seriously? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Yeah-yeah. No. The phrase is a bit antiquated, that’s all.”

“Aw, obviously,” Leeta smirked. “Makes sense. You and your historical holosuite games with your friends...”

_Oh, great,_ Julian thought. Now he’d have to convince Miles to say it.

Between careless smiles and eager kisses, Julian and Leeta settled together for a cuddle. Julian maintained a relaxed exterior, but inside his head, anxiety ran wild.

Perhaps he and Leeta had staved off their breakup for another night, but awareness of its inevitability was lodged sharply in Julian’s heart. Cold. Uncomfortable. Smiles and kisses and mutual pleasure couldn’t fend it off forever.

For the fifth time in five weeks, Julian had climaxed the moment he thought about Elim Garak.

Elim Garak: a Cardassian.

A man.

A dear, dear friend.

A friend who’d be in prison for another four months.

Existence was tough without Garak here. Julian missed him so much it hurt in his chest, a sad weight descending inside him whenever he remembered they couldn’t just pop into the Replimat together for tea or lunch and a personal conversation every other day. Julian had very few close friends, but of those he had, Garak had always been the easiest and most exciting to spend time with.

Carrying on without him these past two months had been made bearable only by, firstly, reading and replying to Garak’s regular letters, but more so, the companionship of Leeta. She was keeping Julian sane, she really was. He couldn’t thrive by himself. He needed someone to talk to, someone who would hold him steady in body and mind. He needed _her_.

Julian’s longing for his best friend had to be kept a secret. Because if Leeta ever found out that ‘Elim’ was Garak’s first name, Julian would be left alone.

  
  
**☆**  
  



	2. Pals

Julian scanned the crowds in Quark’s, eyes moving from the clacking dabo wheel, where Leeta was hard at work entertaining, to the folks leaning on the barriers of the upper level and others enjoying their lunch. Amidst the movement of this everlasting party, Julian spotted a friend.

With a smile on his face, he strode over to the bar, where he leaned on the counter and held up a forefinger.

A synthale spun his way down the bartop, and he caught it before it hit Miles’ plate.

“Bit early for you, isn’t it?” Miles asked as Julian parked his rear on the barstool next to him. “You don’t usually start drinking until at least eighteen-hundred.”

“What is it, one o’clock?” Julian shrugged. He sipped his ale. “As far as I’m concerned it’s still _late_.”

Miles popped a tartar-sauce-covered scampi into his mouth. “Didn’t sleep?”

Julian shook his head. He sipped again, then held his pint glass in both hands, watching the foam fizz away in sections. 

“I’m telling ya,” Miles uttered, shaking his head, “you gotta pace yourself. If you insist on writing these twenty-page letters to Garak, at least divvy them out over a few days. Your prison buddy’s not exactly _going_ anywhere, is he? He can wait.”

“I wasn’t writing all night, I was thinking.”

“About what?” Miles let Julian steal some of his chips, and pushed the plate a bit closer so they could share.

“D—” Julian gulped. “Do you ever... get so invested in what you’re doing... that you don’t really know what you’re saying aloud?”

“Oh, yeh.” Miles chuckled. “Said some pretty senseless things to whatever poor soul disturbs me when I’m up to my elbows in live wires.”

“Hm.” Julian rubbed his greasy fingers together, then wiped them clean on the thigh of his jumpsuit. He glanced at Miles. “Game of darts?”

Miles tossed the last chip into his mouth and nodded, leaving his plate but taking his coffee.

He and Julian loped into the darkest corner of the bar, where three private tables were set into the nook. One was occupied, but when the occupants saw that the station’s Chief Medical Officer and his practically-senior-staff friend had arrived, they gathered their belongings and left. Julian would have felt bad, but he saw their plates were empty anyway, and it wasn’t like he minded having privacy.

He handed a set of darts to Miles. While Miles took his turn first, sending the dartboard into an overexcited digital jitter, Julian sipped at his synthale and tried to settle his pounding heartbeat. He never liked to lie, especially not to people he loved, but if he was going to, now seemed like the ideal time.

“Not bad, Miles,” Julian said, observing a decent score. “Now!” He rolled up his sleeves. “Let me show you how it’s _really_ done.”

“Alright,” Miles uttered. He sipped his coffee, then took Julian’s ale and poured some into his own mug. “Lightweight medical officer running on no sleep and a couple’a sips of grown-up juice. Ehh, I’ll bite. What’ve you got for me?”

Of course Miles didn’t know how easily Julian could beat him, so stood by looking smug and self-assured as Julian lined up his dart, measured his throw, then flung the first projectile straight into the bullseye. The board lit up and sang.

Miles uncrossed his arms. “Huh. Lucky throw.”

Julian grinned and tossed another.

Miles started to frown. “If you get that third one I’m never buying you a drink again.”

Julian hesitated and didn’t throw. “Wait, really?”

Miles cracked a grin. “What, are you crazy? If I didn’t have you, who would I hang out with, besides my wife, daughter, and our pregnant surrogate mother? Go on, throw the damn thing already. I’ll owe ya a drink either way.”

Julian smiled and hit the bullseye. He threw his arms into the air and cheered, “ELIMMmmm!”

Miles looked around the bar in a hurry. Then he looked back to Julian, who was burning hot all over and trying not to look fazed. “Alright,” Miles said. “Julian, in case nobody’s ever told you this, you’re major-league weird when you haven’t slept.”

“I’m always weird, Miles,” Julian said playfully, glad to see Miles bob his head as he considered the truth in that statement. Julian offered him the darts, and Miles took them.

Three more rounds.

Julian made sure he himself won each round – but not by much, in case he made Miles suspicious. Each successful round finished with a gleeful hiss off “Yesss, elim,” and a fist pump, or a modest nod of self-acknowledgement accompanied by a quiet, “Elim, elim...” And, of course, one more yelp – “Elim! Hah!” followed by a clap on the back for Miles.

Miles was peering at him very strangely at this point. Determined to look like he hadn’t noticed, Julian hid his nose in his pint glass and kept his eyes on the dartboard.

“Julian,” Miles said, draining the last of his coffee before round five.

Uh-oh. He used his ‘ _Look, Julian,_ about _that_ ’ tone.

Here it came...

“What is it you’re saying? Ee-lim?”

“Ugh, don’t tell me,” Julian uttered, back turned as he collected the darts from the board. “It’s a _generational_ thing.” He faced Miles, ears burning. “Didn’t they say it when you were at the Academy?”

“They didn’t say it anywhere, at any time,” Miles retorted. “And I know for a fact you’ve never said the name like _that_ before today.”

“Name?” Julian looked busily down into his pint. “What name? It’s not a name, Miles, it’s an exclamation. Like ‘hooray’. You say it when you’re happy, or celebrating. Or having a good time in bed or something.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s a real word!” Julian looked desperately at his friend. “Really! It _is_.”

“Okaaay...” Miles’ eyes lowered to the last of Julian’s synthale. He reached over and took the glass from his hand. “Remind you not to let you drink unless I’m sure you’ve eaten something proper already.”

Julian curled his now-empty fingers by his side. “I only just remembered the word existed. You know how you forget phrases, and whatnot. Perfectly decent word. Shame not to use it.”

Miles put the pint down and picked up the darts. “Whatever you say, pal. You gonna take a turn or can I go first this time?”

“Go ahead.” Julian gestured to the board. He leaned against a pillar in the dark nook, watching the red fractals of the bar’s lights play over the mustard-yellow shoulders of Miles’ uniform, arms shifting, fingers aiming...

Julian heard the tap, tap, tap of heels on metal. His attention snapped rightwards and his blood ran cold when he saw a flash of green and gold fabric floating elegantly along – Leeta had spotted them and headed over now to say hello.

“Miles,” Julian breathed.

“Mm?” Miles was still lining up his dart.

Julian scampered two steps closer, taking Miles’ arm, and meeting his startled eyes. “Say ‘elim’ when you win.”

“What?”

“ _Elim_ ,” Julian repeated in a desperate hush. “Please. I’ll owe you.”

He stepped back and put on a huge smile, opening one arm to embrace Leeta as she stepped down into their nook. “Hallo, sweetheart,” Julian said, putting a kiss on Leeta’s cheek. “Mmm-wah. How’s your day going?”

“Ugh, the racket of the wheel gets under your skin after a while, it really does,” Leeta said, shaking her head. “Just needed a change of scenery before my next shift. Hey.” She beckoned, and Julian leaned his cheek down so she could smooch him back, smiling. “How’s the game?”

“You aren’t doing _too_ badly, are you, Chief?” Julian said to Miles, giving his still-uncertain friend a pleading look, soon covered by a smile. “ _Apparently_ I play better when I’m overtired and a little bit tipsy.”

Miles muttered, “Just so long as you’re not performing surgery later, I can live with it.”

Leeta watched Miles line up his dart again. “Go on, Chief,” she encouraged.

Miles gave Julian one quick look, then devoted his attention to the board. A flick of the wrist – tap! The dart hit just beside the bullseye and the board lit up singing.

“Ee—” Miles ducked his head, clearing his throat. “Hm. Not awful.”

Julian’s stomach churned. He’d almost said it.

“Two more,” Julian urged, clapping gently. “Come on.”

Miles exhaled through his nose, holding his second dart level with his ear. He focused... aimed...

Tap!

“Ayy!” Julian cheered, as Leeta applauded too.

Miles swallowed and steeled himself.

He took a deep breath. Julian took one too.

Look, maybe this wouldn’t pan out. Miles was a creature of habit – he didn’t pick up on new lingo unless it was the moniker of some freshly-invented engineering part. Asking him to suddenly start using suspicious vernacular as part of what was obviously a performance simply wouldn’t fly.

But Julian still held out hope.

Miles palmed at his forehead, eyes shut. He swallowed, then lined up his dart. He wasn’t nervous about the game; he was too far behind for a good shot to make any difference. But Leeta didn’t know that.

“You’ve got this, Miles,” Julian said gently.

Miles grunted. And he threw the dart.

“Elim!” Miles exclaimed.

Julian cheered and ran to throw an arm over his shoulder in grateful congratulations.

“That showed _you_ what’s what,” Miles said, poke-poking a finger at Julian’s chest. “Holosuites are on you for the next month.”

Oh, Julian could’ve kissed him. A big, fierce, slobbery kiss. He resisted, not wanting to stir up more trouble, but beamed at the most loyal man he’d ever known, hanging on his shoulder, hand scrunched into his uniform.

Leeta chuckled over by the pillar. “Sounds like that ancient slang of yours is catching,” she said. Julian met her eyes and she grinned, tilting her head and making her dangly earring sway by her shoulder. “Once Jadzia catches on, you’ll have Captain Sisko saying it by the end of the week.”

She came over to put a kiss on Julian’s nose. Julian dragged Miles with him as he leaned into Leeta for a lip-kiss. They kissed for almost five seconds, Julian humming a happy note throughout. Then Leeta patted his cheek and headed off, explaining as she left that she had tables to wait on.

Julian sighed hugely once she’d vacated the nook and had stepped out of earshot.

He slumped, and put that well-earned kiss on Miles’ cheek, then fell off him, squeezing his upper arm until the last moment.

“Thank you,” Julian said, dewy-eyed and warm from head to toe.

Miles swiped his kissed cheek with the back of his hand, but could do nothing to wipe away the rosy blush from usually-pale cheeks. “You mind telling me what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s ‘going on’,” Julian said. He picked up his pint and tossed back the dregs, only to regret it when the leftovers were warm and flat and had some kind of bitter crystalline debris down the bottom. He spat it all back into the glass and put it down in distaste.

Judging by his stormy-eyed stare, it looked like Miles was past the point of giving Julian the benefit of the doubt. He folded his arms and waited for an explanation.

“Nothing’s going on!” Julian insisted, despite knowing the assertion wasn’t winning him any points. “Just bringing back the old Academy slang. Vintage. You know. It’s fun.”

Miles, noticing Julian had moved into a defensive stance, responded by relaxing. “Listen... Julian...”

Uh-oh. That was his ‘ _I’m not mad at you, I just want to know why you did it_ ’ voice.

Miles gave Julian a long, careful look, concern brimming in his brown eyes. “You’re obviously not stupid,” Miles began.

Part of Julian’s brain was relieved to hear Miles say that. Another part agreed, with some vehemence. Another part, a quiet and insecure part, scoffed at the mere idea.

“So you know _I’m_ not stupid,” Miles went on. He stepped closer and took the back of Julian’s bare forearm, holding it where his sleeve gathered in the crook of his elbow. “You’re the one who let me read a couple of your letters to Garak.”

“You were just supposed to proofread the plumbing repair tips! Not read the whole thing!”

“Yeah, but— Julian. Come on. You gotta be kidding me. ‘ _Dear Elim_ ’.”

Julian gritted his teeth and looked away, gulping hard. “Coincidence.”

Miles sighed. His hand slipped off Julian’s arm, and Julian flared with panic, suddenly terrified he was pushing his friend away with his obvious lies. He reached for Miles and grabbed his arm, yet was unable to meet his gaze.

“It— It’s—” Julian’s heart hammered in his throat. “Garak’s called ‘Elim’ as a nickname. After the... Academy slang.”

Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Julian, for fuck’s sake.”

Breath shivered out of Julian’s mouth. Quietly, he said, “It’s the truth.”

Miles gave him a sad, pitying look. Slowly, he shook his head. “Maybe a good friend would let you have this. But, dammit...” He sighed, and reached to put his hand flat on Julian’s cheek, holding his face, holding his gaze. “I’ll do you one better, alright? What the _hell_ are you trying to hide?”

Julian shut his eyes tight, head down, easing out of Miles’ welcome but unsettling touch. He couldn’t even speak.

No, Miles wasn’t stupid. He was rather clever, actually.

He proved as much when he put it together himself in the ensuing ten seconds of silence.

“Oh— Oh, _fucking_ hell.” Miles covered his face with both hands and _wheezed_ , but peeked out at Julian a moment later, face red and eyes watering. “What you asked me about getting so ‘into’ something that you – forget what you say... Leeta. _Elim_ — It’s like ‘hooray’?! You say it in _bed_? Motherff—” He turned away, a fist pressed to his forehead. He turned back to Julian, who by now had curled down to a bench seat and sat with his head in his hands, with his body and soul in flames.

Miles slumped to sit beside him, leaning back in emotional exhaustion.

“Why him?” Miles asked quietly. “Why _Garak_?”

Julian just shook his head, on the edge of tears. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that much, you damn _tribble_.”

“I miss him.” Julian looked at Miles, showing the raw depth of the ache in his heart and every crack in his mask, not wanting to lie again. “Miles, I miss him _so_ much.”

Miles sighed.

As Julian composed himself, fretting along the way, Miles just sat with him, and watched him, and judged him.

But, barely a minute later, he reached over and patted Julian’s shoulder.

Miles offered an assuring smile that juuust-about reached his eyes and made them twinkle. Then he levered himself to his feet using Julian’s shoulder, and wandered back to the dartboard.

“Figure I could still beat you,” Miles decided, planting his hands on his hips and studying the board. He glanced back. “What’s the bet?”

Julian grinned, comforted beyond belief. “You win and I’ll drink _that_.” He indicated the synthale he’d already spat out.

Miles grimaced. “Urgh. How about I win, and you _don’t_.”

Julian gave him a fond look, going up to him so he could slide a hand down his broad back. “Do you know, Miles, I don’t think there’s a man in _existence_ who can boast of having a better friend than I can of you.”

“Psh.” Miles turned to the board. “You and _Elim_ seem pretty chummy.”

Julian’s heart sank. “Oh... yes, well...” He sighed. “It’s one-sided.”

Miles’ teasing look turned to one of surprise. “Oh.” He hesitated. “Wait, but – Garak’s so— The way he looks at you— Are you _sure_?”

“Well, it’s been four _years_ , hasn’t it... We’ve had tea every couple of days and lunch once a week for practically all of that time. I just figure, if he liked me that way, he would’ve made a move by now.”

Julian shrugged and tried not to look affected, but then Miles’ hand found his arm – and Julian leaned into it, then leaned into his sadness.

Miles gave him a hug.

For nearly a minute Julian stood there, forehead to Miles’ shoulder, glad that someone finally knew his secret.

His secret was safe here, he knew that.

But he couldn’t keep hiding it from Leeta forever, and he knew that, too.

  
  
**☆**  
  



	3. Pretend

Rhythmic. Sweaty.

Late nights with Leeta usually came to this, rocking in bed, face to face, skin to skin, mouths locked, breaths on _fire_ and bodies burning. Julian wouldn’t break eye contact for the world, too obsessed with the feeling of being loved.

She straddled him and rode gently, always smiling, always taking care to make sure Julian was comfortable. She held that privilege: she’d already come twice and she _did_ like to make sure he’d finish strong, too. It was taking him a while tonight, but that wasn’t exactly something to complain about.

Julian turned his head as she returned to kissing his ear, and he let his eyes stray only then. But his head turned towards the dresser under his bedroom’s porthole window, and he was trying not to look that way. So he shut his eyes and let out an encouraging moan.

“Oh, your pretty ears,” Leeta breathed. “Mmm, I’m going to nibble them _all_ over...”

Julian let her; it wasn’t like she was the only one with a fetish. His sigh morphed into a moan as the gorgeously wet squish of their interlocked bodies dragged all his senses to bliss.

Another minute in, he made the mistake of opening his eyes, and hurriedly closed them again. But then he forgot not to look, and spent another minute being push-push-pushed into the mattress, eyes set longingly on the dresser’s middle drawer.

That was where Leeta had stored her strap-on toy – he’d found it the other day while putting away his laundry. It still had the straps attached, tangled together and unbuckled without anyone to wear them.

Julian groaned again as Leeta changed up her rhythm: she squirmed over him and made his whole being flush with delight. “Oh,” he whispered. “Hmm...”

“Feel good?” Leeta asked, plucking at his lips with her own. “Doesn’t it feel _amazing_?”

Julian nodded, holding her eyes. Leeta returned to obsessing over his ears and his attention roamed back to the drawer.

It ought to be easy to ask. _I want the toy. Can we?_

But it was too soon. Not even a week had passed since the first time they’d used it, and Julian was convinced he’d look too eager. Maybe Leeta would think he didn’t like _this_ anymore: just them, naked and close. And he _loved_ this. He wasn’t merely comfortable; he was comforted. He’d sleep especially well once this was over.

Yet he kept looking towards the drawer and—

Not thinking about it. No.

Leeta was right here. She loved him. He loved her. He didn’t want anything else. No.

No.

Oh, but... it was still Leeta. Just in a different position. Maybe if... the solid tip of that purple dildo pressed on Julian’s slick and well-stretched hole. If a hand stroked his belly like Leeta did now. If a strong, wide pair of hips tucked up between Julian’s open legs... If she held Julian’s waist and slid _inside_ —

In a flash Julian felt the heat of Garak’s touch, saw playful blue eyes and a dastardly grey smile over him. _Oh, my! You like that a_ lot _, don’t you, Doctor? I do_ hope _I’m not too big for you?_

“Oh Gohhd,” Julian whispered, spreading his legs wide under Leeta’s plunging weight. Garak’s first thrusts matched Leeta’s. “Mm. Mm. Eeh...lih...”

Hot. Too hot. Burning.

Oh, fuck – _stop_.

He tried to dispel the fantasy, shaking his head fast, but when Leeta was knocked away from his ear she responded by kissing his cheek – and her lips were as soft as Garak’s. Julian’s spine arched and sparkles exploded across his skin; he cried out and panted— “Oh no-no-no, nuhh’a – huh – huh—” Too late: he was coming, unstoppable. “Oh God. Elim. Oh. Oh.” He shut his eyes tight, hands clutching Leeta’s lower back.

He couldn’t look at Leeta. He’d spilled everything he had inside her, and still his cock throbbed like it wasn’t done yet. “Nhhh.” He rode out the last waves of pleasure, and the moment he was done, he sagged outwards in the bed, glowing with shame.

He sobbed. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did it take fifty minutes for Leeta to work him towards climax, but one measly ten-second fantasy of Garak’s barest affection could make him lose control?

Leeta didn’t seem to mind – but then again, she mistook his blush for one of contentment, and his shuddered sounds and lethargy for exhaustion. She peppered him with kisses and he responded in kind, if slowly.

Things were so normal between him and Leeta the rest of the time. They could laugh at the same jokes, and tease each other about domestic grievances, and they had perfectly lovely conversations about medicine and psychology every other day. Shared mealtimes were a great balm for any stressor. But whenever they got near the bedroom everything fell apart for Julian.

Or...

Wait...

Did Julian not practice his jokes on Leeta, refining them before he slipped the quotes into the lines of a letter as though he’d made them up while holding his pen? Did he not still arrange the rug in front of the sofa the way Garak told him to, even though Leeta said the same rug would look better in the bedroom? Did half his conversations not begin with “Garak told me once—” and end with “—but I’ll write to Garak about it and see what he says”?

He thought about Garak when he ate – not just with Leeta, but any time, alone or in company. Given an empty moment between chews or work shifts, Julian mentally penned his next letter. Between dinner and bedtime, he physically wrote it. Between his shower and bed, he re-read the most recent of Garak’s messages, and then checked them against older ones.

Not a waking hour passed where Julian’s thoughts didn’t drift back to his friend. Garak’s absence had become part of his idea of ‘normal’. Missing him was as common as breathing.

Julian wrapped Leeta in his arms and pulled her close, afraid she’d see the fear in his expression. He kissed her forehead and rested his nose there for a while, stroking through her short-cropped hair with fretful fingers.

And he stared at the dresser drawer, wishing he’d had the courage to ask.

  
  
**☆**  
  


_My dear Julian,_

Julian stepped into the gloom of his quarters, rubbing his eyes. God, what a day. Getting home at last felt like a weight had been lifted, physically. His shoulders seemed to rise now, his feet floating on the carpet once he’d kicked his boots off near the sofa.

_Your tales of woe regarding the repetition of your current work were quite the expedition to read. Of course your twelve pages (front and back), merit a great deal of response, but for now I shall limit myself in order to make clear my main reply. I am reminded of an old Cardassian saying: Worthless is the work of those who cannot see their work’s worth. That is to say – keep at it, Doctor. The research process may be endlessly frustrating without any obvious results, but your theories are sound, your resources hold steady, and you have your patients’ interests at heart. Your efforts are never wasted._

Julian peeled off his uniform as he slumped towards the bedroom, stepping out of his jumpsuit and leaving it trailed behind him on the floor. He went straight for his nightstand and opened out the drawer, reaching in for Garak’s newest letter.

_There’s still so little to say about life here in prison. They’ve taken to serving I’danian spice pudding on the third day of each week, which, I must say, improves that day by a certain amount. If I close my eyes I can almost imagine sitting across from you at the Replimat and hearing your smug tone as you inform me how incorrect I am about whatever it was you’d made your mind up about that morning._

Julian flopped forward onto the bed, wriggled forward, and lay there across the mattress, cheek in the ruffled blanket and eyes on the letter, which he pulled from its envelope and unfolded to re-read.

_Tell me, Doctor, are the letters you’ve been ‘pinning up’ around your quarters making the place overwhelming to the eye? I haven’t yet read a complaint about the variety of colours and textures I’ve used for my envelopes, but please do inform me if you have a preference. I’m rather partial to the richer jewel-toned papers, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But I do hate to imagine your walls pasted with a riot of clashing colours._

Julian stroked his thumb over the inked northern-Cardassian lettering, barely feeling an indent. Garak wrote with a light hand but a bold, swirling gesture even on the square-shaped alphabet, making his letters fill the page but never overwhelming the brown with black.

_In answer to your question: yes, I have been sleeping better. There are still the occasional nightmares, but I find they lessen as – again, in response to your suggestion – I’ve reduced the meat in my diet. As grateful as I am, I can’t say I’m especially pleased to have yet another source of pleasure removed from my life. Perhaps, if an absence of nightmares were to become an abundance of good dreams, it could be worth it._

_I did happen to dream of you the other night. You joined me on Cardassia, Doctor, and upon a low hill, in the dappled shade of the mighty ithian trees overlooking some unknown province, we enjoyed a jumja stick each, which quickly melted in the stifling heat of a long-gone childhood summer. You were far more amused by the resulting stickiness than I._

_Do you ever dream of me, Doctor? In slumber? Or, perhaps, awake?_

Julian sighed in longing, looking doe-eyed at those inciting words.

He shut his eyes and went back to orange-skied, red-earthed Cardassia, tasting a bittersweet jumja stick he’d never licked, laughing again at a juice-sticky wrist and a wet sleeve. Garak grumbled, Julian snickered and nudged him with a shoulder, glad to see the old lizard crack a smile.

How badly he wished they could be that close in reality. To take each other into their childhood memories, to get lost in old lives together. To share familiar and unfamiliar food in places out of the eyes of others, to sit in long grass and watch the clouds go by. How he wished for it.

But all they could have were the letters. Imagination. Dreams.

Even reunited, as they would be once Garak’s prison sentence ended, what more could they have? They poured their hearts into their letters, shared things with greater depth than ever seemed appropriate sitting face to face. Every anecdote contained a secret, said or unsaid.

It seemed to Julian there was only one thing that could allow them to be more intimate than this.

Yes, Julian dreamed about Garak.

Asleep.

Awake.

Leeta wouldn’t be home for a few hours. He could dream right now...

His eyes turned to the bedroom doorway. Then back to the letter.

Reading Garak’s messages was always something he liked to do alone, to better absorb the hidden meaning, and to avoid Leeta’s questions when he burst out laughing or muttered an irritated response to himself. Even less explainable were his shuddered sighs of longing; clutching his hair and whining in amused despair; taking a moment to cry into his hands. He read in private, and often wrote back in private, too.

But he’d never locked the door.

Julian did not want to upset Leeta. He’d realised the first thing he had to do to prevent that was to admit to himself that he wanted Garak. Rather desperately, actually. The second thing he had to do was make sure that when he was with Leeta, he _didn’t_ think about Garak. He needed to focus on her.

Which meant he needed to get it all out of his system when she wasn’t around.

He left the letter on the bed and launched himself up. He hesitated before the dresser, but then decided this was _vital_. It served nobody’s best interests to be making love to Leeta and thinking about someone else. It only made him feel guilty while Leeta became some kind of proxy lover, and that wouldn’t do. So Julian opened the drawer, took out the strap-tangled dildo, and tossed it on the bed.

Then he went back to the living room and said, “Computer, lock the door. Emergency entry only.”

After a bleep sounded, he sighed. He turned back, stripped off the legless lilac bodysuit he wore, slipped his underwear down his legs with his thumbs, then turned to the bed.

A slow breath escaped him as his eyes rose. “Wrong thing, right reasons,” he uttered to himself. He tipped his head. Well, what were the alternatives? Be dishonest with Leeta. Or break up with Leeta. So, worse. Worse in all respects. This was the only decent option he could imagine.

He knelt tall on the bed and reached for the lubricant, always propped on the nightstand. With a flutter in his chest and a shake in his hand, he opened the bottle and made the fingertips of his left hand gleam with oil.

Bottle set down. Knees shuffled apart. Eyes shut.

Fingers...

“Ahhhh,” Julian sighed, as immediate relief prickled coolly down his spine, surging in his ears and sparkling in his toes. “Mmm.” He circled his hole with two fingertips, humping back as if Garak was there and Julian wanted to tease. He could feel his own erection rising against his forearm, twitching its way to stiffness.

_Eager, my dear?_

Julian nodded. Despite being self-conscious, he spoke to the empty room. “I r-really... want you.”

Garak’s soft chuckle sounded in Julian’s heart. _I can see that. May I...?_

Julian slipped a single finger inside himself and _yelled_ , suddenly gasping. “Yes. Oh my God, Garak, yes.” He shook, then dropped to support himself on one hand and both knees, lips throbbing, cock thumping another inch closer to his belly. “Oh, fuck me.”

_In time. Relax, Doctor. Lie down._

Julian flopped flat to the bed, arm trapped under him, still working that one finger in and out. He tried the tip of another at the rim, and shivered as it slipped in easily, no pain whatsoever. “Mmmm. I— I wh...”

_Say it, Doctor._

“Want you inside me.” (What a thing to say! So awfully wrong... but so wonderful to admit.)

_Oh? And what is it you want to feel?_

Julian shook his head. He couldn’t speak. _Full up. Loved. Love me. Show me love, Elim, I want you. I miss you. I miss you._

_Shhhh._ Garak soothed Julian’s rump with a slow hand. _Relax, my dear._

Julian pulled out his fingers and wiped them on the sheets.

“I love you,” he whispered, before hearing himself and electrifying with shock.

Garak offered his sweetest, most fond smile to Julian’s turned back. _I love_ you _, my dear. Oh, just as much._ An imaginary kiss fell warm to Julian’s neck. _Now... Let me prove it._

Julian sobbed, face pushed into the sheets. He needed to steady his breath and calm his shaking hands, but eventually he could reach back and pick up the strap-on toy. He wet it shiny with lubricant, then tossed down the bottle and set the toy to his hole. Its smooth tip bumped him, and he cried out low, thinking of Garak trying to align himself so it wouldn’t hurt.

Julian hesitated, then turned over, lying on his back. Garak wasn’t there to look at him, but how lovely would it be if he was? Julian tilted his head and imagined Garak leaning down, taking his lips for a kiss, all tender and sweet.

“Mmmmm...” Julian stroked his erection as Garak moved his kisses to his neck. “Garaaaak...”

_Hush, my dear. Someone might hear you._

“Door’s locked,” Julian whispered. _Nobody’s coming in._

_Oh, but_ I _am,_ Garak said, devilishly. Julian bit his lip and laughed at his own joke, then let go of a small breath and – oh – _oh_ —

Julian relaxed entirely, gushing with relief as the toy filled him. He’d known he craved this but he hadn’t realised how much until it finally happened. Garak sank in as far as he could, but he was unnervingly weightless. Julian pined for the heavy press of a chest and the searing temperature of a Cardassian in heat, but for now he made do without.

“Auhhh...”

He set a steady pace, as Garak explored a rhythm and tested to see what Julian liked. He liked pulling out slowly, almost until the head of the toy slipped out, but only because he liked to push back in, curving the toy so—

“ _Elimmm—_ ”

—So it dragged on his prostate as it went.

Julian didn’t consider making it all last. Once he found a good rhythm, he sat up and craned his head to watch the toy plop in and out of himself, worked by a confident hand. He breathed in sighs and bit his lip, half imagining Garak kneeling against him, pistoning his hips; half just enjoying the absolute satisfaction of using this toy again. It looked Bajoran, but a phallus was a phallus, and he knew there was little difference between the sex organs of most Humanoid species. The colour was certainly wrong, but Garak did _like_ this shade of purple...

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Julian threw his head back, turning it so Garak could suck on his neck. “Come in me. Come inside me, Garak.”

Garak hummed darkly. _If Leeta could hear you now..._

_She can’t hear me, Garak. I’m with you. I want you to come into me._

_So assertive. I never imagined..._

_Oh, please,_ Julian smirked, eyes shut as he kept his hand moving. _You imagined plenty._

_Mmm. Perhaps I did. Say my name, Doctor. I know how you want to._

“Elim,” Julian breathed.

_Again. Say it until you come._

“Elim,” Julian shivered. He slumped back to the bed, hair ruffled, chin up, mouth open. “Oh, God, Elim, fuck me. Fuck me. I love you. I luhh— Mmmm.”

Garak’s upper thighs slapped Julian’s buttocks as fast as possible now, shaking his entire lower half – Julian lifted himself on tiptoes, knees wide apart, toy smacking his hole up to its textured and crooked base, the part he held onto tightly, the part Leeta was supposed to position inside her. Instead Julian’s hand sweated on its form, thumb thumping his perineum, gasping and trembling, tense everywhere but his anus. The untethered straps of the toy whipped at his inner thighs but he simply imagined Garak wore some strappy lingerie like Leeta had. Leather tassels. A choker at his throat.

“Elim. Ah-hah— Ee- _lim_!”

_That’s it, Doctor. Come whenever you like, I’ll finish afterwards._

“I love you,” Julian sobbed. “I miss you—”

_I know,_ Garak whispered. He slowed down just to lean close and put a soft kiss on Julian’s cheek. _I know, Julian._

“Garak,” Julian sobbed. His breath hitched and he came in a hard spurt across his belly, wet heat rushing in a stripe up to his neck. “AUhh— Elim. Elim—”

Garak tilted himself so Julian’s prostate sparked with sensation, fireworks brightening an already-starry night from head to toe.

_Theeere,_ Garak sighed, as he came into Julian and let his hot seed spill out as he pulled free. _Oh, my_ dear _Doctor, how wonderful that was... And how beautiful you look!_

Julian felt a tear slip from the corner of his left eye, stinging. A helpless whisper: “I love you.”

_And you wish you didn’t._

Julian nodded, sniffling.

A kiss touched his bare shoulder. _You aren’t alone in that, Doctor._

But Julian opened his eyes, and he was.

He lay still for a number of minutes, until his heartbeat settled and his body ceased to feel like it was floating. And then he kept lying there, gradually lifting from murky, post-orgasmic half-thoughts.

He felt relief.

Relief, like he’d rarely known it before. Bright light pulsing from his chest. A weightlessness. An airy breeze coming through a night fog and chasing it away before dawn.

To think about Garak, to touch himself, to admit to himself how deeply he was affected by his friend’s absence and the affection they had for each other— He’d wanted this for months.

He’d _needed_ this.

He had hoped that, now this was over and done with, he and Leeta could be left to enjoy each other without an imaginary Garak butting in. But after the revelations that had slipped from Julian’s lips, new even to himself, he feared that might not be possible.

He didn’t just _miss_ Garak.

He loved him.

That seemed like it might be a hard thing to ignore.

  
  
**☆**  
  



	4. Please

_You jest, my dear Mister Garak, but I’ll have you know that while television and film as storytelling media died out for all but niche fanatics a very long time ago, almost all of Human history can be learned about through that one source, even if it does vary in terms of factual portrayals of its subject. Given Starfleet has on-demand access to practically everything ever made, of course I’m going to take advantage._

_I never understood why you had such a negative reaction to the idea of popcorn. It’s a fun snack, Garak. It really is. And you can put anything on it! I’ve taken to caramel toppings in recent times but I’m not above the regular salted or buttery. You’d like a spicy one, I think. Once you’re back on the station, you and I are going to watch every James Bond film ever made and eat more popcorn than a sensible doctor ought to recommend._

_Leeta’s not such a big fan of those films. She’s an absolute pacifist, and dramas full of violence aren’t her thing. Personally my biggest qualm with them is that they’re horrific on the sexism side of things. But they’re telling products of their less-sophisticated time, and regardless of what you think, Garak, I don’t watch them just to ogle the pretty women. There’s plenty more to appreciate about them. They’re time capsules from another world._

_You’d like the fashion. Or maybe you’d hate it. But either way, you’ll have something to talk to me about afterwards. And that’s the point, isn’t it?_

Julian watched another explosion on the holoscreen that floated three feet away, right in the middle of the darkened living room. He munched his popcorn, then turned to hunt for more. Leeta had a lot in her hand, so Julian opened his mouth and went, “Ah?”

Leeta grinned and put a puffy white piece between her lips, pursing them for a kiss. Julian grinned and leaned in, stealing the popcorn and stealing a kiss.

_You’d like Bond, especially. A spy. Licence to kill. Maybe you’d relate. Maybe you’d think he got a far better lot in life than you did. But mark my words, you will watch these. I will not rest easy until you’ve sat yourself down next to me, a bowl of popcorn shared between us, and we’ve gotten through at least five films._

Julian fished around in the popcorn bowl, grabbing a handful and cramming it all into his open mouth. Leeta wriggled beside him, and with a bored sigh she curled closer, putting her head on his shoulder.

Julian gazed at her, smiling. She was so patient with him and his interests. Gosh, he adored her.

_You’d really like the process, I promise. Dimming the lights. Setting up the snacks. Tuning out the world just to get lost in another one, where the good guy always wins while doing some morally dubious things along the way. It’s a whole experience._

Julian kissed Leeta’s forehead, breathing out across it.

_We’re going to do this, Garak. Exactly like I do with Leeta. Except you’ll actually enjoy it._

  
  
**☆**  
  


Was he crazy?

He might be crazy.

Either he was crazy... or he was right.

Julian paced into his bedroom, then paced back out, annoyed with himself. Crazy. Too crazy. He already _did_ this and it improved matters by exactly zilch.

But, perhaps his theory _was_ correct, he just hadn’t done _enough_.

Crazy!

...Or right.

“Oh, come on,” Julian uttered to himself. He took himself over to the drawer and wrenched it open, looking down at the sex toy. His whole body thrilled with arousal just seeing it, which was terrifying enough that he slammed the drawer shut again and stormed back to the living room, a fist over his mouth.

He stood by a porthole, mouth open, eyes on the grid-panelled ceiling, hands flapped back and forth in front of him to work out some energy. Anxiety and desire gave him the jitters when combined. He wanted; he didn’t want; he wanted again.

“No!” he decided, moving his hands straight beside his head like he was putting blinkers on. “Focus. Just work, Julian, take your mind off it. Take your mind off it.”

He breathed out carefully and went to fetch a padd and a stylus, slumping onto an armchair as far away from the bedroom as he could get.

A few minutes passed with his mind urged, urged, _urged_ towards research. He shifted twice on his chair, tucking his socked foot up against his crotch, then curling both knees to one side, then sitting cross-legged. Then he whined and dropped the padd in his lap and clutched his face. He couldn’t focus. One knee started to jump.

_Just a little bit, maybe,_ Julian wondered. Maybe he could touch himself quickly and get it over with. Didn’t need the toy at all.

No, he reminded himself. Leeta would be home in half an hour; he could wait and spend time with her.

He could wait!

He picked up his padd and stared at it, laser-eyed, clutching his forehead, kicking his thoughts every time they strayed.

But eventually all that mental fighting was so noisy by itself that he peeked over the top of it all and looked towards softer, more pleasant ideas.

Garak, sitting on his bed in prison, leaning against a cold wall but wrapped in a blanket, pouring his heart and soul into a letter for Julian. Pausing, shuffling back through his pages, realising he ought to number them. Carefully numbering them. Then getting back to writing.

_How goes the research, Doctor?_

_Not too well, I’m afraid,_ Julian thought, as if Garak sat in the room with him, stitching something while Julian daydreamed. _You’re very distracting._

_Ought I be concerned that you’ve been imagining me everywhere you look? Surely that’s not a sign of a healthy mind._

_No, you’re right._ Julian tucked his stylus away into the padd’s side pocket, and set the thing on the nearest decorative table. _I’m obviously crazy. Crazy about you._ He managed a sweet smile, knowing the real Garak would chuckle upon hearing such a thing.

_Garak, I have this theory..._

_Hmm?_

_It’s silly. And you’re imaginary, so you already know it._

_You think if you masturbate again with me in mind, you might satisfy yourself at long last. Perhaps then you can dedicate yourself to Leeta the way you should._

Julian looked guiltily away from where he pretended Garak sat.

_If you want my advice, Doctor..._ Garak’s eyes twinkled, a sly smile curling up his cheeks. _Find the line. Find the action that would qualify as going too far, and do just a little less._

Julian hummed, slumping in a sigh. “And what, pray, is that line?”

But Garak was gone. He never liked to give a straight answer.

Julian got up and went to the replicator.

“Give me...” He sighed and held his face in his hands, feeling his temperature spike. He swallowed, and peeked out. “Give me a prostate-stimulation sex toy.”

A black one appeared in a swirl of light.

Right! So!

He told the computer to lock the door, then took the toy to the bedroom.

‘Too far’ was thinking about an absent man who had no romantic interest in him while Leeta fucked him with a phallic toy. ‘The line’ had to be masturbating with that same toy without Leeta present. So, ‘a little less’...

Maybe he just liked the feeling, he thought, as he undressed himself. Maybe he just liked anal sex. Maybe he just needed some time alone to care for himself; maybe this had nothing to do with Garak or Leeta at all.

He knew that was a lie. Even as he stood at the foot of the bed, one knee on the mattress, and slipped the lubricated head of the toy inside himself, holding the crooked handle pressed against his buttocks, he knew it was a lie.

He shut his eyes and was dissatisfied.

The toy ended up on the floor. And Julian ended up back at the replicator.

“I want a Cardassian sex toy, a dildo. Male. Average size. With a flared base for anal insertion.”

The computer processed the request, and created what he wanted. It was six inches in length with a slight curve, medium-dark grey, with thick sectioned ridges that made it kind of square-looking all the way up, but with a smooth bullet tip.

In his desperation Julian flung his guilt away and went directly to the bedroom. He set his knee up on the bed again, legs apart. He slathered the toy with lubricant.

Heart pounding so hard he felt it everywhere. Cock so erect he didn’t even need to touch himself.

“Fuck me,” Julian said to the empty room, eyes shut.

Garak’s warm hand snuck around his waist; a kiss pressed to his neck. _Why?_

Julian sighed, frowning. _Why not?_

_What do you want from me, Doctor?_

_You know what, Elim. Touch me._

_Tell me why you want that and maybe I’ll entertain the idea._

“I—” Julian glanced over his shoulder, feeling very alone.

He sighed. “I’m lonely.”

_You have friends who care for you. Leeta in particular is especially devoted. Chief O’Brien spends more time with you than he ought to. Jadzia has yet to disappoint you in any respect. What can I give you that you cannot get from them?_

“Nothing.” Julian shook his head. “It’s not what you _do_. I just...”

_You miss me._

Julian nodded.

_Why would sex fix that?_

It didn’t. Of course it didn’t. But it felt good. Julian so badly wanted to feel good again. He just wanted a deeper connection with Garak. _Love_ , expressed with a dear friend. Comfort. To reconnect with someone who he cared about more than he ever realised. Someone who wasn’t here. Someone whose absence tore him apart completely.

“Please...”

A kiss touched his shoulder. _Lie down for me, my dear._

Julian lay on his back, opening out his arms so Garak could lean down and cuddle him.

_You’re so excited,_ Garak noted. _And I haven’t even touched you. Do you ever wonder, Doctor, if you enjoy the idea of me, rather than my reality? Reality is empty. I’m not here. You cannot really have me._

“Shut up, Garak.”

Garak smiled and kissed him. _If I won’t, it’s rather more your fault than mine._

Julian smirked and let him have the last word.

Garak pushed inside him gently, slowly, then went still to let Julian adjust to the size. Julian hadn’t bothered to stretch himself this time, having learned how to relax his muscles and apply enough lubricant and move so he didn’t need to.

_Would you ever be disappointed?_ Garak asked. _Say, by some miracle, you and I could connect this way in reality. Say I was really attracted to you, and interested in a relationship. Is this the only way you’d want to make love? What if my body is not what you’ve imagined? What if the way I show love is not the same as the way you’d like to receive it?_

Julian let him push deeper, moaning softly and arching his back as Garak began a lazy rhythm.

_If Leeta was away for this many months,_ Garak speculated, _would you imagine her in your bed like this? Would you write to her the way you do me? Would your heart break in her absence – or would you forget her, Doctor?_

_Why is it you cannot forget me?_

Julian whimpered, cuddling Garak closer. Garak’s breath curled darkly into Julian’s ear, so close that Julian felt a phantom heat. A moan purled from his plumped lips, as his hand moved slow and his hips turned.

_Why,_ Garak said, _is this your picture of love? Is it not enough to know everything there is to know about a man? Is it not_ enough _to receive my heartfelt, handwritten, and handmade gifts twice a week and have them be unique in the universe? Is it not enough to know that I crave your attention as much as you crave mine? Why is touch so important to you?_

_Why can you not resist your_ criminal _little fantasies? You’ve always been strong of mind and character, Doctor; why is this too difficult? Why am I here? Why do you want it to be_ me _touching you, when you already have someone else? Someone better for you. Kinder. More beautiful. Why me? Tell me, Julian._

_Why... are you so in love with me?_

Julian came gently and quietly, spilling thick white gloop across his hip and down his side.

_You think this is the answer,_ Garak said softly, caressing the side of Julian’s face as he shivered post-climax. _But what is it the answer to? What do you_ want _, Doctor?_

Julian shook his head.

_Because it’s not this,_ Garak said.

Julian opened his eyes, and for a moment, a heartbeat of a moment, he actually _saw_ Garak there, blue eyes and a sad smile.

But then he was just a figment again, and the dark ceiling grates filled Julian’s vision.

_Trust me, Julian, if only this once,_ Garak said.

_You want something else._

And then he was gone.

  
  
**☆**  
  



	5. Penned

Julian wrote his letters to Garak with a genuine 1960s fountain pen, the kind with a pointy gold nib, and replaceable ink cartridges inside. He tended to go through a whole cartridge with a single letter. Most often he used black ink, but sometimes he replicated a dark teal, a purple, a brown...

He used that pen, firstly, because it was unmatched by any replicated writing tools, and on the right paper, his words flowed out almost twice as fast without any lapse in clarity.

Secondly... it had been a gift from Garak. So it seemed apt.

He sat curled against the headboard in bed, hugging Kukalaka against his chin, balancing fourteen sheets of paper on a stiff triangular pillow on his knee. Unbroken lines of ink twisted vines across the blank page, filling it up with recollections of the days gone by.

There was no world but the world Julian created for Garak. Garak would hear the beeps and hums of the Infirmary; he’d smell the hypospray vapour; he’d see his old home between each curl of Julian’s ‘G’s and tucked under the looped cross of his ‘T’s. In writing, Julian lived in that world for the second time.

A figure moved in Julian’s peripheral vision and he startled, coming up for air like he’d been underwater. His skin prickled and flared in alarm until he realised where he was, and who’d come in.

Leeta looked at him gently, folding a dress in her hands. “I can come back later.”

Julian blinked a few times, each blink slower than the last. But finally he said, “No. No, I...” He sighed and capped his pen, then set aside the letter, tossing the pillow on top of it. Kukalaka was placed on the nightstand, lying on his back. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?”

Julian indicated the empty side of the bed. Leeta first put away her dress in Julian’s drawers, then came over to the bed, smiling.

She sat on the triangle pillow beside him, flapping out the train of the skimpy outfit she wore so it draped off the side of the bed. Her legs stretched bare down the mattress, crooked at the knee to cross. Bare feet, painted toenails. She was perfectly relaxed and Julian hated that he was about to ruin it. A slow breath pushed between his rounded lips did almost nothing to calm him.

“Julian...” Leeta sensed his unease, and touched his arm. “Is everything all right?”

Julian shook his head.

Leeta twisted her torso to face him more, paying him greater attention.

Julian gulped, ducking his head. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Leeta grinned. “Ooh! What did you call this – ‘pop quiz’? Yeah! I sure do. Check.”

Julian managed to grin, flashing Leeta an affectionate look, then lowering his eyes again. “And I think you’re... _aware_... I’ve been a bit of a mess recently.”

“Only recently?” Leeta tutted, which made Julian chuckle. But Leeta stroked his arm up and down, and said more seriously, “You’re always working so hard. Obviously developing vaccines for Bajor was never your main field but I’m really proud you volunteered to take it on. You are a bit tired, I’ve noticed that much. Distracted...”

Julian felt guilt churn in his belly. _Distracted_.

So she’d noticed how he couldn’t maintain eye contact when they made love. She’d noticed that he stopped smiling when they weren’t looking at each other. She’d noticed him pour himself into his work only to produce limited results. The truth was that he didn’t need to work so hard; he chose tasks he knew would absorb too much of his time so he didn’t get a chance to confront the rest of his life.

He’d been avoiding this conversation for two months now. But now he knew _why_ it needed to happen. Now he knew what he needed to say.

“You’ve been—” Julian met Leeta’s eyes, needing her to see how much he meant this: “You’ve been everything to me. You _are_. You’ve kept me going. Kept my head on my shoulders. Kept me sane when I thought— I thought maybe I wasn’t.”

Leeta looked wary now. “Julian, heyyy. What’s wrong?”

“I need you,” Julian whispered to her, apologies in every tense muscle in his face. “I’ll fall apart without you. But I—” He tilted his head back, eyes on the ceiling, hoping to keep his tears from falling. He sighed, eyes shut, shoulders slumped. He gave his girlfriend a tender look. “Leeta, I think, for both our sakes, I need to end things with you.”

Leeta grinned at first, but then shook her head and gave Julian an unsettled look. “O...kay? Julian—” She held his rolled-up sleeve, stroking it with a thumb. “Why do you think that? Why would we need to break up? Are you just scared you’re relying too much on me, is that it? Because I really don’t _mind_ doing things with you, watching movies and talking about your work. I kind of like it, actually, because I get to enjoy your company! And – look – we can _figure out_ ways to find you more balance between work and play. It’s not impossible...”

Julian sighed hugely and looked away. Unfortunately his eyes fell to the dresser, and he scowled, head down.

Leeta glanced that way, but didn’t understand. “What?” she asked. “What is it?”

“It started with that.” Julian cocked his head towards the dresser but refused to look that way again. “That toy.”

“The strap-on?”

Julian wet his lips, stomping down the flush of desire that rode up at the mere mention. “I really liked it.”

“Yeaaah, I noticed,” Leeta purred. “You’ve never come so fast.” She stroked Julian’s jaw with her fingers, lifting his chin to meet his eyes. She gazed at him too lovingly; she still didn’t understand. Even his request to break up with her hadn’t done more than confuse her. She really didn’t have any idea.

“I, um...” Julian stared at her soft-painted lips. “W-When we... tried that, the first time... I had a really... good experience. And I was...” _Gulp_. “Scared. To ask for it again. Because it was too soon after last time, and I didn’t want you thinking I didn’t like _you_ any more. Because I do! I do. I still adore you, Leeta.”

Leeta only looked more baffled. “Julian, I’m not about to get jealous of a _toy_. It’s there to be used. If you want to, we could...” she tilted her head and gave a cute, seductive shrug, “try it again? Do you want to do that?” She stroked his jaw again, and put a kiss on his cheek. “You want me to _top_ you again, hmm?”

Julian had to shut his eyes tight and shake his head. “I can’t. Leeta, it’s not right. It’s not fair to you, what I’m doing. I’ve been—” Hard breath out, fist pressed to his forehead in shame. “I’ve been playing with it. By myself.”

It almost seemed offensive that Leeta’s expression went from surprise through to glee through to arousal in three seconds flat. This was turning out to be the worst breakup ever, and not at all in the ways Julian had expected.

“Do you really, _really_ like the toy?” Leeta asked, teasing a finger around Julian’s ear. “Ohh, you do. I can see you do. You’re blushing. Your ears are going red.”

“Leeta, please—”

“You can beg, sweetie,” Leeta agreed, shifting closer, dark eyes on Julian’s lips. “But I’ll give you what you want either way...”

Julian stared at her in despair and desire, unsure which emotion was stronger.

“I want something else,” he breathed, desperate to make her understand. “I want— _Someone_. Else.”

Leeta pulled back a bit, the flame in her soul flickering as she considered that. “Who?”

Julian opened his mouth to say – but then realised how utterly futile it was to tell her it was Garak. Garak wasn’t here. He wouldn’t be here for another four months. Even once he was, evidence suggested he wasn’t interested romantically, nor sexually. Julian himself, as far as he was aware, had never looked at Garak face-to-face with conscious attraction – well, besides the occasional surge of raw affection, and the distinct awareness that under certain lights, and when in certain moods, Garak was really rather pretty. Everything had fallen into place while his friend was away, and Garak had no idea it had happened. Julian’s ‘someone else’ was a figment of his own imagination. A fantasy.

“Nobody real,” he admitted to Leeta, although each word stabbed his heart cold. “I’ve just been pretending there’s... someone.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Julian sighed and pressed his lips together, palms flush between his knees. “Another man.”

Leeta’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

When Julian glanced at her, he was again taken aback by the complete lack of upset in Leeta’s eyes. She even seemed a bit... pleased.

Again, she leaned into him. Two fingers turned his chin, and she took him for a sweet and assuring kiss, which only served to make Julian’s brain puff empty of thoughts. Everything became fuzzy.

“You can think about him while we have sex,” she said, holding his eyes from ten centimetres away. “I don’t mind. Could be a bit exciting.”

“What?” Julian shook his head in astonishment, gaze hopping from Leeta’s left eye to her right. “Leeta, what the hell are you talking about? Why would you do that?”

Leeta rolled a shoulder. “I care about you. If we can figure out ways to have a good time together without you ending up miserable and alone, I’m taking it.”

Julian bit his lip. “Th... This isn’t... a sort of... dabo girl psychology thing, is it? Your clients—?”

“Yeeeeeah, they like to fantasise too, sometimes,” Leeta shrugged. “But just because I’m used to being someone else doesn’t mean it’s automatic for me. You’re not a client. I do still want you. And from what you said, I think you still want me. Don’t you?”

Julian watched her for a number of seconds, trying to figure out how to reply. “I... appreciate your company. Obviously. And I don’t want _either_ of us to be alone.”

“There.” Leeta beamed and booped Julian’s nose with a fingertip. “It’s settled. We stay together.”

Deeply rattled by this, Julian glanced around, unsure how to react.

“Wait,” Leeta said. “Is there some other reason you wanted to break up? Or was it just that you felt funny about having a fantasy? Because there’s nothing _wrong_ with sexy fantasies, you know. That’s what the toy was _for_ , anyway. Make-believe.”

Julian shook his head. “No... It’s just that. It was just the fantasy.”

And strangely, it was. How Leeta had managed to convince him he hadn’t done anything wrong was beyond him. He’d been so sure she’d hate him. He thought he’d cheated on her.

“Do you want to do it now?” Leeta asked. “I just need a quick shower, and then...?”

Julian’s breath caught. “Wait... you mean...?”

“I’ll wear the strap-on. Whatever position you like. And we can think about other people.” Leeta’s smile widened. She tilted her head, questioning. “Hm?”

Julian nodded and nodded and nodded. “Yes. Mm-hm. Mm-hm. Yeah.”

Leeta gave him a kiss on the forehead as she stood up. “I’m glad you told me,” she said with a breath of relief. She stood by the bed, stroking a hand back through her red-brown tufts of hair, a slow smile rising. “It’s set my mind at ease a bit, too.”

Julian just smiled.

She smiled back. For a moment, she looked like she was about to say something else... but she stayed quiet, and went to wash up.

  
  
**☆**  
  


“So!”

Leeta came back to the bedroom, stark naked and relaxed. She sat on the end of the bed and twisted at the waist to look back at Julian, who again put down his letter, and put the triangle pillow over it so the pen wouldn’t roll away.

“Tell me about your imaginary lover,” Leeta said warmly.

Julian grinned, then chuckled. He leaned forward, bare arms wrapped around his bare legs. “Well? He’s... bigger than me. Shorter by a little bit, but wider and thicker. Older than me. A bit demanding. _Very_ sweet. Always... careful... with me.” Julian swallowed, bowing his head and resting his nose on his kneecaps, breathing out as he looked to the side. _God, I miss him._

“What species is he?” Leeta asked. She got the strap-on and began untangling the straps. “Bajoran, right?” she assumed, given the species of the toy.

“Oh...” Julian hesitated, then hesitated again, but then exhaled, got up, and went to the foot of their bed. He lifted the mattress corner and retrieved the dildo he’d replicated. He stared at it, heart flipping and belly fizzing in excitement. He showed the grey phallus to Leeta, who put down the strap-on and reached to take the dildo instead.

She was quiet for a long time.

“It— It’s Cardassian,” Julian said, in case she didn’t know.

“I get that, Julian,” she said, an edge to her voice. “I’ve seen plenty.”

Julian’s skin began to crawl. “Oh...” He realised he might’ve just handed her a trigger for some very bad memories from the Cardassian Occupation. “If— If it’s too much...” He reached to take back the toy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have—”

“Wait.” She held his hand, then slid her fingers to take the toy again. “It’s fine.”

“No! Leeta, don’t make yourself do this for me. Really, if this is at _all_ upsetting for you, I won’t stand for it.”

Leeta stepped up to him and covered his lips with a fingertip. “Shh.” She smiled. “I was just a bit surprised. Well, not _surprised_. But.” She smirked and looked down. “I’m fine. Really. I’ll go ask the replicator to turn it into a strappy thing, huh?”

Julian let out a shaky breath. “If you’re really sure... then yes, please.”

Leeta stood on tiptoes and gave Julian a smooch. “Lie down. Or stand up. Whatever you want. Get comfy.”

“What do _you_ want?” Julian asked, catching her elbow before she could leave the bedroom. “How do you want things?”

“Me? I want to kiss your big, blushy ears.” She patted his cheek. “If you’re having a good time, then I’m having a good time.”

Julian snickered, rubbing one of his burning ears as Leeta left. She really did know what she liked, didn’t she? And now she knew what _he_ liked, too. Thus, it seemed inevitable that whatever was about to happen might just be the best thing either of them could ever dare imagine.

  
  
**☆**  
  



	6. Pairing and Parting

_This isn’t what you want, Doctor_.

Julian huffed. _Leave me be, Garak. I just want to fuck you._

_But do you, though?_

Leeta was there, waiting, naked in the bedroom. Well, not naked; she wore the strap-on. There was no denying the ridged grey phallus looked out of place on her curvy, peachy-coloured form, but Julian still smiled, still stepped up close, and still lowered his chin to kiss her.

An imagined voice pushed heat over Julian’s shoulder. _Take a moment to consider the full breadth of your situation, dear Julian,_ Garak said. _Would it actually help you to indulge once again? You’ve learned by now that thinking of me while experiencing pleasure only addicts you further._

Julian all but rolled his eyes, but instead frowned and deepened his kiss with Leeta.

_You were the one who told me to find the line, Garak. The line’s gone, now. She agreed to this. She knows about you. Well, she knows there’s ‘someone’. I have nothing to hide from her._

_Doctor._ Garak sounded so disappointed. _You’re only hurting yourself._

_Look, Garak – you’ve made your point. Now, are you going to make love to me or not?_

Garak smiled, and touched a kiss to Julian’s shoulder. _Of course._

Julian smiled, and gently eased Leeta down to sit at the foot of the bed. He knelt at her feet and looked up at her in uncertain awe.

“Can I really?” he asked, as she stroked his hair back. “Can I think about him?”

Leeta grinned, circling a fingertip around the twists of his ear cartilage. “Mm-hm.”

Julian moaned a little, biting his lip as he shut his eyes. _Garak, sit down. Legs open. Let me...?_

He didn’t open his eyes; he didn’t bother to imagine Garak moving closer. He just bent his head and let his cheek nudge against the tip of the toy. Rubbery; warm from the room. He dragged his face against it, leading it to his mouth...

_Open your lips, my dear._

Julian did, giving a soft, “Ah...” He teased the supple tip of his tongue against the finest ridges of the toy, but was disappointed when Garak didn’t gasp or surge forward in pleasure.

Obviously Leeta couldn’t feel that touch, so she didn’t react.

So Julian pretended – hmmm, perhaps Cardassians didn’t find that part of their sex organs particularly sensitive. He tried out a few sucking motions, just for the experience of having done so – he touched himself between his legs as he did, unable to deny the urge – but he soon moved on, kissing down Garak’s erect ridges, breathing shakily, humming tiny moans as he went.

Garak spread his legs wide. Julian palmed his inner thighs and Garak began to pant, his voice turning light and delicate.

A cry of want shook Julian’s chest: he moved all the way down and now licked at hot, slick skin, and made Garak fall back to the bed in immediate overwhelm. Actual Cardassian physiology was a mystery at the best of times, but two years ago Tain had given Julian enough information in those medical files that Julian knew things in theory. Garak could be licked open. He would probably like it.

_Oh, Doctor,_ Garak breathed, clutching at the sheets. _Oh—_

Julian hummed, tilting his head, pressing his nose to the base of the toy but digging his tongue just past it, parting the sides of Garak’s cloaca until his flesh _shivered_.

_Auhhh, Doctooor’hh..._

Julian thrilled at the idea of Garak weak and shaking around him. He devoted himself to his task, clutching Garak’s legs beside his ears, head bobbing, lips and tongue working to make the other man come undone.

_Your mouth—_ Garak almost laughed, voice breaking. _Such a conversationalist— S-Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised th-that you— Skills— Transf-f-fer-aaaAAAAhh—_

Julian fantasised, just for a moment, that _he_ might penetrate his lover tonight. Garak could lie back and enjoy while Julian pushed into him and worked out all the desperate energy that brimmed and bubbled inside him—

But that would require Leeta taking off the toy, or being very uncomfortable trying to fit the base of the toy and Julian’s cock in the same place, and besides, Julian didn’t want to change the plan when they’d already agreed to this.

So he guided Leeta back to the middle of the bed. She was shaken up by now, dark-eyed and plump-lipped. Julian himself was even darker in form and in spirit. His lips throbbed, tasting of brine each time he licked them.

He lubricated the toy and then pooled the same fluid on his fingers, dipping into a slightly inelegant semi-squat to slick up his behind. Garak chuckled from the bed, giving Julian a sly look.

_Come, Doctor,_ he said invitingly, as Leeta simply waited in silence. _You say you want this. So let’s find out how right you are._

Julian straddled Garak on the bed, breath burning in his throat. “Auh—”

_Sink onto me, my dear. Fill yourself up. That_ is _the greatest demonstration of love between two people, is it not? It’s what you believe, so it must be right. Everything you’ve ever wanted with me – take it._

Julian had to pause without descending, shaking over Leeta, holding his erection tight at the tip. “Hmm-h-h...”

“Are you thinking about him?” Leeta asked, looking up. She took the sides of Julian’s long thighs and stroked them up and down. “Excited, huh...”

Julian nodded fiercely. “He loves me. H-He loves me. Oh, I’m going to come...”

“Shhh.” Leeta tried to soothe him. “He does love you.”

“ _Oh_...” Julian could’ve wept; he could’ve climaxed. He did neither, but remained halfway between both. “Say it again.”

“He loves you,” Leeta whispered.

“Oh, God,” Julian whimpered, head lolling towards his shoulder. “I— I want—”

“What do you want, sweetie?”

“Him to make love with me.”

“Okay.” Leeta’s smile was audible in her voice. “What’s his name?”

Julian shook his head. Couldn’t say. He frowned and bit his lip and... slowly... carefully... sank down.

Rounded lips rushed cool with an exhale. Julian sat with the base of the toy flush to his anus, taking his time to relax around it. He hummed a long note, enjoying the hands that stroked from knee to hip.

_Do you not suppose,_ Garak said, a bit too conversationally, _that you might be mistaking one kind of intimacy for another? I understand you are incredibly fond of me, Doctor, and perhaps there is... some attachment, which I’m sure could be misconstrued as love—_

_Don’t twist this for me, Garak. I want you._

_You want me, yes. But I do struggle to understand why having one of us insert a body part into an orifice of the other is somehow the peak of demonstration of such a feeling. What is it about_ emotional _intimacy that dissatisfies you?_

“Nothing,” Julian retorted, before fluttering his lashes and peering down at the confused Leeta. “Sorry,” he said to her, as he started to shift on her waist and sparks ascended through his body. “Auh— Auhh, III was... talking to him. A bit.”

“Is he being nice to you?” Leeta asked, amused.

“Rarely,” Julian smiled. “But yes. He does tend to clap back.”

_Doctor, there are other ways to show love._

_But that’s not what I want._

_How do you know?_

_I just do!_

_And I think you’re wrong. The fact that I am a manifestation of your subconscious and yet I cannot leave this topic alone only speaks to the fact that you agree with me. At the very least, you harbour enough doubt that you require debate; a devil’s advocate; you want to be proven wrong._

_Or right,_ Julian added.

_Except you have yet to win this debate._

Julian smirked, starting to bounce. “Ah-ha— Oh—” His thighs slapped his own calves and his buttocks smacked Leeta’s hipbones. The bed thumped with movement; the mattress corners lifted and fell with each shift of weight in the centre.

“Uh’ _ohh_ , Gar—” Julian swallowed, silencing his moan. A slow breath out; a shiver and a squirm of his hips – and then back to bouncing. “Mmmm.”

_I must say,_ Garak remarked playfully, _you make quite the picture._

Julian blushed at the knowledge that he’d just thought that about _himself_. But maybe he did look pretty now. Blushing cheeks. Flushed chest. Shoulders lifted, hands together between his legs to balance himself as he jimmied his body just a few centimetres up-down-up-down-yes-yes-yes on Garak’s cock.

_Won’t you kiss me, my dear?_

Julian dared not open his eyes and break the spell; he wanted Garak, not Leeta. He fell forward with a moan and grasped his lover’s cheeks, scrunched his shoulder-length hair, kissed him with abandon. Hard moan. Nudging nose. Hot breaths, _hot_ breaths, more kisses.

“Elim,” Julian whispered, lips stuck just beside Garak’s mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Elim stroked back his hair. _How I adore_ you _, my dear._

Julian dragged his torso back upright and groaned, head back, starting to thrust his hips forward and back, tugging the toy at his hole and sending electric static all the way to his furthest extremities. “Elim...”

_Mmm. Don’t stop. I want to see you climax on me, my dear. No— Don’t touch yourself! I know you can do without._

Julian tilted his head, pretending to peer down into Garak’s marvellous blue eyes, although he kept his own shut. _You want me to fuck myself to orgasm, is that it?_

_Ah, not quite. Fantasise, Doctor! You could even stop moving if you like._

Julian ignored that suggestion and sped up, mouth wide open and breaths fast; he trembled, he sweated; he hummed a desperate noise and felt himself leak more pre-seminal fluid down his erect length. A ridge of Garak’s cock pressed onto Julian’s prostate, and he _moaned_ — “Elim. Oh, good _God_ , Elim, _right_ there!”

Leeta’s whisper came gently, as if afraid to draw him out of his fantasy. “Is that his _name_? Elim?”

Julian just moaned again, enthralled by the way Garak simply lay there and let Julian have what he needed.

_Imagine,_ Garak said. _For a moment._

_Imagine what?_

_That we’re not here making love. Perhaps we are in bed. But it’s my bed, not this one. We’re fully clothed. You can wear those striped pyjamas you’re fond of. We’re home together after separate days at work, both exhausted. And we—_

“Elim. Elim—” Julian moved so fast – just his hips – that their rhythm became a vibration, and the sticky, clicky, clapping noise of their contact became silent; only the mattress unsettled in its frame gave a uneven bass to such an intimate song.

_We kiss, Doctor. Would you like that? To kiss me? And be held._

“Yes. Yes! Yes. Yes.” Julian was close to coming, eyebrows raised, skin radiating heat. He trembled. “Elim, please, yes.”

_And I tell you about my day. I trust you with the most trivial, perhaps private details._

“Yes. Oh, please, mmm.”

_And I make you laugh, Julian. You giggle._

“Mm! Mm. Yes. Garh— Elim. Elim. Hm – hah – hh—”

_You tell me a long story that anyone else would find boring, but I find fascinating._

Julian nodded and nodded, heart aching. His rhythm started to slow, breaking down – exhaustion? Or... did he realise his imaginary Garak was right after all?

_We tell each other secrets. Offer... physical affections. Tender. Romantic. You don’t even consider lust._

In his curiosity, Julian’s rocking slowed to almost nothing, kept up only by the mindless need to move. Shift. Shift. ...Shift...

_We love each other._

Julian stopped.

_And that’s all you want, Doctor. That’s all you’ve ever wanted from me. You want me to_ love _you._

Julian felt Leeta’s hand stroke his cock and he came into it without warning, folding forward. He slammed both hands into the bed and rode out the pleasure, sounds of alarm pushed out with every breath.

He had to screw up his eyes tight, body shaking.

Garak was wrong. Garak had to be wrong. It was more complicated than— Far more complicated. No. Garak was wrong.

Leeta stroked Julian’s too-hot cheek with the back of a hand.

Julian finally opened his eyes to look at her, and once the blurs cleared away, he hardly even recognised her.

She was a stranger to him.

_She_ was the figment.

Julian was lying to himself trying to pretend with her. He loved someone else. Garak’s love was a fantasy but it was more real than _this_ was.

Spent beyond belief, Julian rolled onto his back and stared at the grid ceiling. Despair and relief still warred through his battleground chest, tearing his heart to ribbons. It all made so much noise that he barely noticed when Leeta began servicing his ears with fingers and tongue.

He stared into nothing and let it happen.

They needed to break up.

Maybe Julian _would_ be alone after this. Maybe Garak would never match up to the fantasies. Maybe Julian would never get a single chance to find out. But this? This was soulless. Leeta was more than a sex toy, but Julian wasn’t treating her as if that were true. Julian himself felt like that’s all he was to her, as well. She played with his ears, muttering pleasured sounds and phrases of affirmation, assuming he liked what she did.

But he felt... nothing.

And being with someone and feeling nothing had to be worse than being alone.

He did what was required of him, and used his fingers to bring her to climax. She caught fire the way she always did, but she settled, still smouldering, not aware she lay in the arms of cold ashes.

This wasn’t the person Julian ever wanted to be.

He tried to kiss her afterwards, but she wasn’t Garak.

She wasn’t Garak and never would be.

He left the bed and went to take a sonic shower, needing a few minutes to clear his head and clean his body.

Whether he was prepared or unprepared for what would come next, he couldn’t be sure, but he had scripted some words to tell Leeta while in the shower, and by now had steeled his soft core with armour, so he was as ready as he could be by the time he stepped into the bedroom in fresh underwear and a loose shirt.

Except he wasn’t ready at all.

Leeta sat at the head of the bed, still nude but draped in the sheets. In her hand was a half-written letter.

Julian realised the triangle pillow must’ve moved while he’d been bouncing. He hadn’t put his letter away properly; he hadn’t checked whether it was visible by the time he left the bed.

Leeta clearly hadn’t read beyond the first page. Perhaps not even beyond the first line. She just stared at the top of the paper and only looked up at Julian when she heard him draw a shivery breath.

She wet her lips and looked at him... softly.

“Is Garak the only person you write to?” she asked.

And just like that, Julian’s script shot out of the airlock. He gulped, shut his eyes, and nodded.

_Dear Elim..._

Leeta read the first line of the letter again, then set it aside, wrapped her knees, and tucked her chin into the nest of her arms.

“I’m sorry,” Julian whispered. He couldn’t feel his hands.

Leeta shook her head, giving him a tearful but brave smile. “No. It’s— I guessed. I guessed already. I never knew ‘Elim’ is what you call him, but... the way you described him... Older, bigger... First I thought, mm, maybe you took inspiration from Chief O’Brien. But then I saw the toy you wanted...” Her breath fluttered at the back of her throat, and she let it all go, relaxing. She lowered her eyes and frowned a little. “Why did you say he was imaginary?”

Garak stood next to Julian and smiled his widest, smuggest smile.

Julian stepped passed him and Garak disappeared.

Julian sat on the bed next to Leeta and drew a breath, eyes rising to the ceiling. “Technically, he is.”

“What?”

“My... feelings... for him... He doesn’t know. He’s never given any indication, at least none that I’ve noticed, that he’s at all interested in me the way I am.”

“And you’re interested...” She trailed off like she expected Julian to fill in the blank.

“I’m in love with him,” Julian said, defeated and careless. “And try as I might, I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

He took a moment to simmer in misery, but when he glanced over to see Leeta’s reaction, he was yet again astounded to see her smiling. He wondered – how could he know Garak so well that a fantasy of him had its own consciousness, practically, while Leeta was a big question mark to him? Garak was predictable in his unpredictability, but Julian had worked for years to understand him. Maybe he’d never tried hard enough with Leeta. He couldn’t comprehend why she would smile at a time like this.

“The Rite of Separation—” Leeta began, and Julian’s heart nearly stopped as panic and solace sprang at each other and hit him mid-chest.

She saw his reaction, and paused to take his hand.

She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ve decided I want this, Julian. I want to break up.”

“Tuh! No surprises there. I mean, it’s obvious _why_ ,” Julian uttered.

Leeta’s smile was a careful one. “The Rite of Separation requires that you and me... we, um... find other opportunities. Sleep with other people. Mess around. Experiment.”

Julian glanced at her, then away.

“I know you said Garak’s not interested in having a _relationship_ with you, but... the Rite doesn’t demand that. You sleep with three people and then you and me break a bowl together, and we’re both free to move on. You’re meant to... put yourself out there. Urge yourself beyond your usual limits.”

Julian fretted. “So... this Rite. We just – find someone? And sleep with them even though you and me are still a couple.”

“Yep.”

“And that’s allowed.”

“Recommended.”

Julian’s brows rose as intrigue stole through him. “So it’s like an open relationship.”

“For a limited time, sure. We’ll be separated by the end.”

“But— Just—” Julian blinked a few times, trying to understand. “Does it have to be people I have feelings for, or just anyone?”

“Anyone who’ll have you,” Leeta laughed. “Obviously someone who you’d _like_ to try something with. Um, for example, if I asked... ooh, I don’t know... sayyyy... a Ferengi. I could...” she shrugged, “perform Oo-mox...”

“And that counts as one down, two to go.”

“Mm-hm.”

Julian shifted in the bed, slinging one elbow back to rest on the bed’s lit-up headboard. “So... Garak...”

“Is still in prison,” Leeta reminded him gently. “The Rite usually only lasts a few days.”

Julian’s hopes sank. “Hm.”

“But I think you can manage three other people, right?” Leeta said. “There’s dozens, a _hundred_ people on this station who’d love to get to know you better. Intimately!” She gave Julian a friendly nudge. “And you never know. By the time Garak gets out of prison, maybe you’ll have found someone else, who actually loves you back. That’s the point of the Rite, after all. Moving on.”

  
  
**☆**  
  



	7. Parole

There was something very depressing about this image, Julian thought. A man alone in a dark corner of a crowded bar, without a drink.

Maybe people would think he was waiting for someone who hadn’t arrived yet.

And maybe they were right.

But he wasn’t going to sit here for another three months.

Leeta, bless her, came to join him the moment her shift ended. She was usually so exhausted by this time of the night that she just wanted to relax. But she made do in the booth; she leaned back to press her neck on the backrest, and shut her eyes.

She sighed... and then she looked over at Julian, eyes half-open.

Julian looked back, not even trying to smile.

She reached over and held his hand, stroking his knuckles.

“Five weeks,” Julian said quietly, assuming Leeta would be able to hear him over the music that pumped through the rest of Quark’s bar. “You and I decided to break up _five – weeks_ – ago.”

“No luck tonight?”

She hardly needed to ask – the fact Julian was still in the bar at two o’clock in the morning and not entangled by sheets in someone’s bed was telling enough.

Julian pursed his lips and shook his head. “I did flirt with a – a-a-a-a nice-looking fellow on loan from Starfleet Engineering who seemed interested. Well, I say ‘seemed’. He offered to buy me a drink and – invited me somewhere... ‘quiet’. I, um...”

Julian hung his head. Then he looked away.

“Then,” he added, turning back to Leeta but not meeting her eyes, “a Boslic woman came up to me.” He breathed twice, starting to frown. “I couldn’t—” He shook his head a bit. “I-I didn’t—?”

“Honey, it’s okay,” Leeta soothed, leaning closer and stroking his hand again. “If you didn’t want to, that’s _okay_.”

“But I _do_ want to, that’s the thing! I _know_ I’m holding you back. Didn’t take you a week to finish _your_ side of the Rite. I want to let you move on, Leeta, I do. I just can’t— It’s uncomfortable. Feels.... feels wrong. Somehow. Like a betrayal.”

Concerned, Leeta shifted in her seat to face Julian completely. “Julian... you have my permission. My complete support! You can sleep with someone else. You’re not betraying me.”

Julian met her eyes, his own widening to show the whole pupil. “Oh... No... I meant Garak. Like I’m betraying _him_. Or even myself.” He lowered his eyes. “He’s the only one I want. At this point I’m wondering if you and I might only complete the Rite after he gets out of _prison_.” He couldn’t help the bitter tone on those last words, but Leeta was compelled by the tone.

“Then wait,” Leeta said.

“What?”

“If he’s the one you want... or need? Then I’ll wait. It’s not _that_ long until he’s released. You must be excited.”

Julian’s lips trembled as gratitude and longing took hold of him and crushed his lungs and throat with pressure. “But what if he never wants me?”

Leeta shook her head. “I think you’re brave enough to at least ask. Maybe his answer would surprise you.”

Julian smirked a little, but tried to school the smile away.

“What?” Leeta grinned, curious about the smile. “What crossed your mind?”

“I— Ummm. I’ve... kind of...” Glee tripped through Julian’s system and he found himself grinning a tiny bit. “The last few weeks, I’ve been putting little hints... into my letters. Being more affectionate, and... sensual, I suppose. And he – Elim – he’s—”

Julian’s reveal was interrupted, as Miles came into view, holding three pint glasses in one hand and carrying something big and blocky under his other elbow.

“Miles!” Julian said cheerfully, shuffling two inches along and offering a seat. “You’re joining us, are you?”

“Not to impose, or anything,” Miles said, putting the drinks down on the table. “But I left the bar to fetch something for you and then came back, thinkin’ you were about to spend the night alone. But if I’m getting between you and Leeta, I’ll—”

“No!” Julian and Leeta both exclaimed.

Julian finished, “Stay. Please,” while Leeta grinned.

So Miles O’Brien sat down next to Julian, and Julian shifted his shoulders, holding his own hands over the table, giving his friend an unshakable fond smile.

“Oh. I, uh.” Miles pushed the drinks along, and Julian and Leeta each took one. “Brought you something, Julian. Here.”

On the table he set a wooden box.

Julian sipped foam off the top of his synthale, then lowered the glass to look at the box. It was about six inches wide and ten inches deep, with a lid that would lift clean off. It was topped by a carved Cardassian lizard, if the tiny spoon shape on its forehead was anything to go by.

“That’s for me?” Julian reached to stroke the lizard, then ran his fingertip down its scaly leg to the flat top of the box. “This isn’t replicated, it’s too unique-looking. And these pockmarks— This is handmade, isn’t it? Where on the station did you buy this?”

“Got the applewood from a passing trader,” Miles shrugged. “Replicated the tools.”

Julian choked on his drink and put it down. “Miles. Miles, you— No. You _made_ this?”

“Why’re you so surprised? I’ve made plenty of things.”

“Yes, but not anything like this! What _is_ it? I mean, I _know_ it’s a _box_ , but what’s it for?” Julian lifted the lid with two hands and looked inside. Empty. But the pungent chemical scent of fresh varnish and the softer, warmer scent of cut wood flooded his nostrils, and he sighed it all out, smiling. “It’s beautiful, Miles, really – but what am I supposed to do with it, exactly?”

“You really can’t guess?”

Julian guessed. He looked at Miles in confusion. “You want me to put Garak’s letters in there? Are they really such an eyesore?”

“You’re gonna lose them if you keep scattering them everywhere, that’s all.”

Julian felt Leeta’s hand on his back and he turned his head to look at her.

“You could keep them all in one place,” she said encouragingly. “And as far as places go, it’s a pretty special place, huh.”

“Oh, _that’s_ the understatement of the year,” Julian uttered, turning back to the box in delight, slowly lowering the lid back and sealing it up. The lizard looked like it was smiling. “God, Miles, it’s gorgeous. Th...”

Julian had meant to impart some words of gratitude, but his mouth had forsaken him, and he sobbed. He frowned and bowed his head and tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t go, and only grew. Emotion rose, unstoppable, and burned in his eyes until he finally blinked and let twinned tears fall.

He flashed a grin, and pawed at his eyes, shaking his head to show he was okay, but hands came to rest on his back, and Leeta put a kiss on his cheek, and Miles rubbed his thigh, and Julian just laughed through his tears, sniffling and trying to calm himself but failing over and over.

“Th-thank you,” he finally managed, thick-voiced and shivery. He gave Miles a headbutt on his shoulder. “I, um. I’m— I’m really, really... Hh-h.”

Miles wrapped his arms around Julian’s shoulders and head, pat-patting his back for a moment before he pulled away.

“I know you miss Garak,” Miles said, holding Julian’s eyes. “But, dammit, Julian, I meant to cheer you _up_ , not make you cry!”

Julian laughed, frantically wiping his face on his sleeves. “No. I am! I’m cheered up. I feel very loved and very understood, Miles, that’s all. That’s why I’m crying.”

“Aw.” Leeta and Miles shared a sweet look, before Leeta banded an arm behind Julian’s back and gave his opposite arm a squeeze. “We do love you. And—”

Julian glanced at her, sensing more to be said.

“And I hope you won’t forget that,” Leeta told him. “Garak is just one person. But you have—” she gestured to the bar, “ _so_ many people who love you. You’re not missing anything. You have it already.”

  
  
**☆**  
  


“What was it you were saying earlier?” Leeta opened her arms and let Julian snuggle up to her, kissing his forehead when he lay his cheek on her bosom. “When Miles showed up.”

Julian remembered exactly what he’d meant to say, but pretended he’d had a lapse in memory like a normal person. “Oh... What was the context?”

“Um. Something about being affectionate with Garak—”

“OH! Yes. Yes, I— In my more recent letters – since you found out how I feel about Garak – I’ve been holding back a whole lot less. Just to see how he’d react, sort of thing. Telling him more, um... personal things. Leaning a bit more towards love letters than friendly missives.”

“Like how?”

“Like... I went into depth about the day I wore a skant—”

Leeta chuckled. “Oh, wow.”

“I told him how it kept riding up and how I kept forgetting people would see up the skirt if I put my knees up on the chair. He did mention it in his reply. The amount of _poise_ he presented when he touched on the topic made it seem like – heee-h-h-he was flustered by the idea. Offered to make me some non-uniform skant varieties if I was interested in that sort of fashion. So that was nice.

“Aaaand, um. I don’t know. I’ve just been extra sweet with him. Sort of – warm. Told him I’m always thinking about his letters and how much I like his art, especially his poems...”

“And? What _was_ his response?”

“Good! Positive. He seems to be responding in kind. Opening up a bit more, I think. Emotionally.”

Before Leeta could reply Julian burst out, “Of course I can’t say that it _means_ anything – he’s a spy, he’s trained to mirror people so they get more comfortable and... _tell_ him things. He’s matching my tone. But. It is something. Isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Leeta smacked another kiss to Julian’s forehead. “Definitely something.”

“I’m really hoping our relationship would still be like this once he gets out of prison,” Julian said, a shade of worry creeping across his sunshine thoughts. “After all, it _is_ a bit different, isn’t it, writing versus talking. He always made me work for his secrets over teatimes and lunches, and it would take me _weeks_ to get anything out of him that I could confidently call a fact. But these days it almost feels like there’s no secrets. He just... tells me things.

“Maybe they’re all made up, these secrets; I don’t know. Maybe he’s gotten better at spinning yarns. But at least he’s sharing. It does give me hope, I’ll admit that much. Once he’s out of prison... we might... have a chance at... love.”

He stared into nothing, heart floating.

Leeta smiled against his temple. “Julian, can I tell you something?”

“Mm? Hm.” Julian peeked up at her, smiling. “What is it?”

“I was waiting for the right time to ask. And it seems like, now, it’s not a _complete_ dead loss with Garak, soooo... I’m not just abandoning you if I said – I’m... moving out?”

Julian lifted his head and stared at Leeta in shock. “Leeta...”

Leeta propped herself up on her elbows to look at back him. “We’ll still be a couple! You haven’t even _started_ your part of the Rite of Separation, so until Garak’s out of prison and you get your chance with him, you won’t _actually_ be alone. We can still meet up for evenings together. And we’ll still be friends. I just— I need to move on. I really do. You get that—”

“I do get that! But—”

“But you don’t have that long to wait! He’ll be back before you know it.”

Leeta sat up because Julian sat up, but Julian turned away, chagrined.

Sourly, Julian uttered, “Maybe three months doesn’t seem like that long to _you_. But three months—” Julian looked back at Leeta, feeling the thrum of anguish in every cell in his body. “Three months before I see him... I don’t know if I can—” He bowed his head and hid his face in his cupped hands, letting misery consume him.

Leeta reached to touch his back, stroking his pyjamas. “Three months?”

“Until his sentence ends.”

“Did Quark not tell you?”

Julian’s eyes snapped to hers. “Tell me what?”

Leeta raised her eyebrows, lips parting. “He didn’t. Quark didn’t tell you. I thought he was _joking_ that you’d missed your payment—”

Julian pressed his hands to the bed and bounced his kneeling legs to face Leeta. “I’ve been sending Quark latinum to keep an eye on the prison on Bajor. Alright, maybe I was a few _hours_ late, but— What did he say?”

“Julian, I’m so sorry, I thought you knew! I thought you were all miserable these last few days because—”

Julian’s hands shot out to grab Leeta’s arms. “Leeta, please, _what did he say_?!”

“Garak’s getting out on parole.”

“Parole— He’s getting out early?!” Julian scrambled backwards off the bed and stood there, hands clutching the sides of his head, staring at Leeta. “Oh my God. Oh my God!” He leapt for joy, then covered his mouth and hyperventilated. Head shaking, hands crammed back down to his sides, he grinned and bit his lip in worry then grinned again. “When? When, when’s he getting out?”

“Um. I heard the news... a couple of days ago, so—”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no—”

“So maybe in a few days from now?”

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh—” Julian ran to the dresser and yanked out a Starfleet uniform, stripping his pyjamas off himself in record time and shoving himself into his jumpsuit both feet at once, jump-jump-jumping to pull it on.

He then remembered he’d missed his undershirt and had to undress again just to pull on the legless lilac bodysuit, doing it up all the way to the turtleneck collar.

“Where are you going?” Leeta asked, sitting at the side of the bed to watch him tangle his feet in his jumpsuit legs. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“If this intelligence really is a few days old, I don’t have a single hour to waste,” Julian breathed. “If I have to wake Sisko up, so be it. I’m taking a runabout and I’m going to Bajor Eight. I am _not_ missing Garak’s release.”

“O...kay.” Leeta seemed uncertain but didn’t try to stop him. As he darted around and finally got his boots on, she stepped up to him, cradled his cheek, and lifted his face so they could look at each other.

He went quiet. Still.

She shut her eyes and kissed him.

Julian let his mind go blank for a moment.

She was smiling when she pulled back. “I’ll have moved out by the time you get back.”

He nodded. “Okay. Alright. Thank you.” He gripped her forearms and put another kiss on her cheek. “For everything.”

And with that he fled the room and then his quarters, legs a blur as he sprinted down empty corridors towards the nearest turbolift.

He stood in the lift and gripped the bars. “Computer, locate Captain Sisko.”

“ _Benjamin Sisko is the the Wardroom._ ”

“Wardroom,” Julian told the lift. It began to whirr along.

Julian only now clipped his combadge to his jumpsuit. He took a few careful breaths, reminding himself to present his case professionally, not like a lovesick madman.

Off to Julian’s left, Garak’s presence drifted into his awareness.

“Going to tell me I’m making a mistake?” Julian asked, not looking at Garak.

Garak just smirked. _Do you think you’re making a mistake?_

“No.”

_Then neither do I._

Julian glanced left but, of course, there was nobody there, and there never had been.

The lift stopped. Julian launched himself out and ran to the Wardroom doors. Halting with two hops, he bleeped the sensor, but when there was no response after three seconds, he bleeped it again.

The doors then opened, and ahead he saw a very tired-looking Captain Sisko, sitting sideways in a conference chair, one elbow on his crossed knee, one finger poked ponderously against a dark brown cheek. Lieutenant Dax and Lieutenant Commander Worf both stood presenting a project on the side screen, but Julian barely spared them a glance. He stepped into the room with his hands behind his back and his eyes wide, trying to keep his energy subdued.

“Captain. Sorry for barging in at a late hour, but I— I have an urgent request.”

“I’m listening.” Sisko turned to face him, forearms placed on the glossy table and fingers interlinking.

“IIII, aaah.” Julian’s eyes darted to Worf and Dax, then back to Sisko. He gulped. “I need to go to Bajor Eight. Immediately.”

“For what?”

“Um. Garak, sir. I’ve just heard he’s getting out on parole.”

“Not to worry, Doctor, I’ve very recently been informed there’s transport arranged for him. He’ll be here within the week.”

Julian shifted from foot to foot, desperate not to explode. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Ih-Ih-It’s just— I was sort of hoping I could collect him myself.”

Sisko seemed unimpressed. “And leave this station without its Chief Medical Officer for six days?”

“Well...” Julian breathed in and out. “Yes, sir. I’d need a runabout, sir. And a leave of absence.”

Sisko’s expression and stance stiffened. “Permission not granted, Doctor. I understand your Cardassian _friend_ means a great deal to you, but I _will_ not allow you to waste your time, and subsequently put this station in jeopardy doing a job for a lawless man that would be more efficiently done by a Bajoran security team.”

Julian’s heart started to squeeze. “Please... Captain... I’ll take shore leave. Without compensation. I’ll buy my own ship!”

“Doctor...” Sisko leaned back, fingers steepled tip-to-tip under his chin. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. Garak – as I understand it – is officially being released for ‘good behaviour’. But I have reason to believe there’s simply a lot more criminals who’ve recently been apprehended and taken into custody. There’s no room for him down there. He may be being released but he is in _no_ way off the hook for his _attempted genocide_.”

Julian gulped. “I— I didn’t know that, sir. But, I do understand, and – I wouldn’t let him out of my sight.”

“That,” Sisko said sharply, “is _exactly_ what concerns me. It’s no secret, Doctor, that he has some emotional hold on you. The two of you crossing a wide, partially-uncharted sector in a runabout for any number of days, without the supervision of anyone with the power to outrank you... seems to me like a recipe for disaster.”

“H... How so?” Julian frowned.

“I needn’t remind you that he _is_ a criminal. It’s clear the idea thrills you more than it repulses you. On more than one occasion I’ve had to pull you into my office and reprimand you because of _something he talked you into_.”

Julian hung his head, hands in fists. “Those were harmless—”

“Crimes.”

“Morally honourable, strategically _valuable_ breaches of the law! We saved lives! Alright, we stole some things, and broke some things, and violated a few rules here and there – and, okay, we destroyed _a_ runabout. But...”

Sisko just stared him down. Julian trailed off, gulping twice in his dismay.

“Doctor,” Sisko said, once Julian had fallen silent. “It is the middle – of the – night. I am in no mood to discuss ethics versus morality versus law. I’m sure you’d more happily discuss such things with your ‘dear friend’ _Garak_.” The captain said Garak’s name with a sharpness on the ‘K’ that made it sound like a bad word.

He finished, firmly: “You may not take a ship to Bajor. My answer is no.”

“But you don’t have all the facts!” Julian wailed, too wounded to temper his tone.

Sisko raised his nonexistent brows. “Which are?”

Julian glanced at his staring audience – Dax looked amused, Worf looked deeply irritated, but when didn’t he? – then looked back to the captain.

“I love him,” Julian whispered.

Sisko squinted and leaned forward. “What was that, Doctor?”

“I said _I love him_ ,” Julian repeated, with a more determined tone this time.

Sisko sighed, slowly lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Is that supposed to sway my decision?”

Julian hung his head, simmering with embarrassment and determination. “I want to go, sir. I want to collect him personally. Please.” He took a shaky breath, then added, “Wouldn’t you? If it was Kasidy? I know she’s... getting out of prison soon... too.”

That had been his final trump card. If Sisko said no now, Julian had no chance.

Sisko stared at him for a long time.

Then he gritted his teeth and turned his eyes to Dax and Worf. “I need a volunteer. Someone who will keep the doctor and his _companion_ on the straight and narrow on their return to Deep Space Nine. No detours.”

Dax shrugged and arched her lips, then raised a hand.

“ _Not_ ,” Sisko said, “you.”

Dax smirked and lowered her hand. She caught Julian’s eyes from across the Wardroom, and they both shared a smile: they both knew she’d get roped into their antics and ask them to promise they wouldn’t tell Benjamin.

Worf growled long and low.

“I _volunteer_ ,” Worf said, with a great deal of reluctance. Probably the most amount of reluctance it was possible to fit into two words.

Julian sighed, trying to offer the captain a smile. “Does this mean you’re letting me go?”

Sisko looked exhausted. “You had better leave immediately, Doctor. Given how long it would take a runabout to travel to the prison, you may or may not make it in time. His release is slated for, ah, three days and... four hours, from now.”

“Oh, we’ll make it,” Julian said with fire in his heart. “Lieutenant Worf, if you’d be so kind as to accompany me to the Docking Ring.”

“I have not packed.”

“Neither have I. But that’s half the adventure, isn’t it? Thrust into the madness without any preparation whatsoever.” Julian beamed, bouncing on his heels. He grinned as Worf skulked up to him, murder in his eyes. “Oh, this is going to be a _lot_ of fun. Thank you, Captain!”

He was about to leave the room, but turned back, meeting Sisko’s eyes. “One more thing, Captain.”

Sisko grunted.

Julian offered a small smile. “If all goes according to plan, sir, there won’t be _time_ for criminal detours. I plan to spend the _entire_ journey... enjoying... Garak’s... ‘company’.”

He let that last word mean whatever they thought it meant.

But it definitely meant that.

Julian was in love with Garak. He had Leeta’s permission to ‘experiment’ with him. Whether or not Garak was interested in a relationship beyond that barely mattered. They were clearly close enough that it was safe to at least _ask_.

So Julian had his chance. A chance to satisfy every fantasy he had.

And he was ready.

Julian just prayed Garak was, too.

**{ the end }**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☆ [Art reblog!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/631188059541716992/leeta-julian-imaginarygarak-square-peg-round)  
> ☆ [And a text post with the summaries of both fics~](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/631640534757310464/hello-garashir-people-here-are-two-new-garashir)
> 
> Thank you for reading! The 22k sequel is coming _very_ soon. Like, later this week. It’s all finished and ready to post, but I just want to give people time to catch up with this one.  
> Edit: [It's up~ Go forth!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940871)
> 
> I have plenty more Garashir fics [**here**](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=8474&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=almaasi) for your reading pleasure.
> 
> I’d especially like to direct your attention to [**Little Achievements**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073979), which, uhhhhhhhh... is a Garashir fic I wrote, set 20 years post-canon, and Alexander Siddig and Andy Robinson performed it?? There’s a video embedded. And the script is there too. If you like a) Garashir, or b) my fics, you do not want to skip clicking that. c:
> 
> i was typing these author's notes and i linked Little Achievements and i was like. i can't believe this happened. i cannot believe this HAPPENED. i can't?? they ?? they took a gay thing i wrote and made it gayer in front of people on purpose, using characters so ingrained into their lives, and this went full fucking COCK on the relationship they've wanted for 20 years and somehow this HAPPENED AND WE MADE IT HAPPEN TOGETHER AND I'M???????? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS HAPPENED
> 
> ANYWAY. Hope you’re all safe, and finding ways to stay sane. Sending my love to you all!! ♥  
> Elmie x


End file.
